


Apart from the Pack

by FindingSchmomo



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alpha!Kindaichi, Alpha!Kyoutani, Alpha!Oikawa, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Anal Sex, Angst, Anxiety, Aobajousai, Beta!Hanamaki, Beta!Matsukawa, Beta!Yahaba, Family Bonding, Fisting, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Insecurity, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multi, Omega!Iwaizumi, Omega!Kageyama, Omega!Kunimi, Pack Bonding, Pack Dynamics, Pack Family, Past Abuse, Scent Marking, Trauma, Werewolves, alpha!ushijima
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2020-03-05
Packaged: 2020-03-13 11:25:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 61,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18939985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FindingSchmomo/pseuds/FindingSchmomo
Summary: Oikawa and Iwaizumi have struggled the majority of their lives in a world stacked against them. Hated by society and shunned by fellow shifters for their non conformity, they have finally managed to stake out a place for themselves and their pack of outcasts and misfits. But when Iwaizumi's big heart brings in two strange wolves, it may just tear them all apart.





	1. Chapter 1

Iwaizumi is with the pups when it starts to rain. They grumble, pressing close to stay beneath the umbrella he luckily brought along for their grocery trip. Kindaichi and Kunimi are both weighed down by a heavy grocery bag in each hand. He worries they’ll end up dragging them along the gravel road and split them in half.

He’s busy thinking about this and rehashing the list of food Matsukawa had given him. He does not want to go back out again because he forgot something inane, like Yahaba’s salt and vinegar chips or Hanamaki’s clementines. His feet know the way home by now so he barely registers the passing scenery, made all the duller and more dreary by the steady downpour.

“Iwaizumi-san,” Kindaichi says, pausing in his tracks.

“Too heavy?” Iwaizumi asks, “Wanna trade bags?”

Kindaichi shakes his head, lifting his chin up. His eyes are squinting and he opens his mouth to taste the air. Iwaizumi blinks and looks out in the same direction, trying to smell anything over the overpowering scent of rain and wet grass. And then he catches it too.

Anxious waves of rotting flowers.

The scent of an Omega in distress.

 _Severe_ distress.

Iwaizumi frowns and starts hurrying toward the source, his sudden change in demeanor enough for the young pups with him not to question him. They stick close and keep their eyes peeled in the gray light, making sure not to trip over any of the rough gravel paving the simple road.

As they get closer and turn down a grassy wet-slick hill, Iwaizumi is overwhelmed by the nauseating smell of pure terror, but along with it is the distinct metallic rust of an Alpha.

His shoulders hunch up as he’s hit with the scent. Kunimi presses closer to him a whimper tugging at his young throat. Kindaichi takes a brave step forward, even though his hands shake by his sides. _Adorable_ , Iwaizumi thinks, as he clears his palette of the smell with a shake of his head. Kindaichi is only ten, a young little alpha Matsukawa had picked up off the streets with Kunimi a few years ago. There’s not much damage he could possibly do. At least not for another few years. The sentiment is sweet.

Iwaizumi keeps moving, nudging Kindaichi behind him as they go.

Up ahead they finally spot them, on the edge of another dirt road.

Iwaizumi stops short.

It’s a pup, barely any older then his own beside him, releasing that awful stench of fear and pain. He’s nudging at a body on the ground, sinking in the muddied ground, rust red pouring from its veins.

They’re both in shift.

Iwaizumi drops his groceries to the ground and shoves his umbrella into Kunimi’s hand. He motions them both to stay back as he hurries toward the injured pair. He needs a closer look to assess the damage.

The pup looks at him with wide blue eyes, yelping in terror and shrinking back. Iwaizumi is used to this kind of greeting from other omegas. He reaches a hand out, a peace offering, and focuses on his own shy scent. It’s hard with the rain dampening everything, and with the pup keeping away, but he hopes the soothing smell he’s trying to exude reaches the shaky thing.

The pup’s eyes widen, perhaps in realization, but he keeps his distance, keening pathetically.

“Can you shift?” Iwaizumi asks, carefully.

The pup stares at him.

 _Shit_ , Iwaizumi thinks, _Maybe he just turned for the first time_.

He flicks his gaze to the wolf laying on the ground. He glides a hand along the thick dark fur, wet and matted down. His back leg is twisted in a way Iwaizumi can’t bear to look at for long. The rest of his fur is painted thickly with a mixture of mud and blood. He’s unconscious but Iwaizumi can feel the weak rhythmic rising of his chest.

He’s breathing.

He’s just not sure for how long.

They’re not far from home.

He makes the decision.

He hauls the body up on his shoulders, letting out a groan at the dead weight sinking him into the muddied ground. The water soaking into the Alpha’s fur isn’t helping. The pup whines by his feet, and he motions for the boy to follow him. Kindaichi struggles with the extra grocery bags and Kunimi gives up on the umbrella leaving it in the mud by the edge of the road.

They hurry home as fast as they can.

* * *

“Iwa-chan, are you _insane_?” Oikawa shrieks.

“Yahaba, clear the table!” Hanamaki orders.

“Shit, Kindaichi, Kunimi get out of those clothes you’re drenched!” Yahaba hisses.

“Kyoutani, help me get him on the table!” Matsukawa urges.

“ _Hajime!_ ” Oikawa howls, loud and overpowering, effectively silencing the rest of the pack and forcing them all to freeze in their spots. Evenrebellious Kyoutani is forced to stand still by the sheer volume of the order.

Iwaizumi glares at his mate, bristling, “They need _help_.”

“You don’t even know who they are!” Oikawa insists, pointing angrily at the unconscious animal slumped on their floor, “You bring a foreign Alpha into our home? You’re endangering everyone here!”

“His leg’s broken, Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi snaps right back, “Shut your glands before they stink up the whole house. You can leave you territorial bullshit at the door.”

Oikawa glares, and maybe any other Alpha would have lost it, but Oikawa and Iwaizumi have always been different, in more ways than one, and so the man steps back. But he doesn’t help. He just storms off, slamming the door shut behind him. Iwaizumi rolls his eyes. He can’t deal with him right now.

“Kyoutani, come on,” Iwaizumi sighs, motioning toward the wolf. Theyoung alpha quickly scrambles to follow his orders, hoisting the limp body up onto the cleared table. “Yahaba,” Iwaizumi continues, “Can you and the pups help the little one out? He’s stuck in his shift.” Yahaba nods as he scoops up the wolf-pup in his arms, not minding the way he squirms around. He motions for Kunimi and Kindaichi to follow him up the stairs.

Once Iwaizumi and Kyoutani get the wolf on the table, Hanamaki starts to examine him, running his hand along the dark fur in search of any other injuries.

“Iwaizumi,” Matsukawa murmurs, coming over with a clean towel to start wiping the beast down, “You’re dripping. We’ll handle this. Go change.”

Iwaizumi doesn’t want to leave the wolf. His heart tugs at the sight of the poor thing—an Omegan instinct to nurture and care flaring up within him. But he knows Matsukawa is right. He takes his shirt off, grimacing how the fabric does its best to stick to his wet skin.

Kyoutani reddens, turning away quickly and accidentally hitting his hip against the table. He grunts, folding in half. Iwaizumi hides his smile as he steps into the next room over where their laundry machines sit. He strips the rest of his clothes off, letting them hang against the sink there. After toweling himself off as best he can, he grabs a clean pair of shorts and a shirt from the pile.

He stiffens when he hears a sudden piercing yowl. It’s loud enough to have the foreign pup start whimpering upstairs.

Iwaizumi hurries back into the kitchen, where Kyoutani is pinning the wolf to the table with his entire upper body, emitting his own warning snarls. Hanamaki has the leg in his strong grip. He must have just reset the broken bone. Matsukawa is doing his best to wrap the new splint in thick gauze. Iwaizumi pushes past them to reach the injured wolf’s face. Kyoutani gives him a warning look. He becomes more guarded, pinning the wolf down tighter, protectively.

Iwaizumi waves him off, gently taking the wolf’s head in his hands. The wolf tries to snap at him, and Kyoutani lets out an angry growl befitting an Alpha much older than him. A twinge of pride touches Iwaizumi’s heart at the sound, but he focuses on his own scent again. There’s a lot of tension in the air. Rust-colored fear and anger from the wolf, a threatening heavy fog from Kyoutani, and the remaining faint scent of Oikawa’s fury. There’s no way he can overpower all of that by himself.

Instead, he shoves his face into the wolf’s neck, scent marking his fur as best he can. The wolf stiffens in shock, eyes widening as he chokes on his own growl. Finally, after a moment, he sinks down and licks at Iwaizumi’s neck. It tickles, but Iwaizumi pulls back from the touch, wiping away the slimy residue with the back of his hand. He doesn’t want to give Oikawa more things to be upset about.

“He lost a lot of blood,” Hanamaki says,“He won’t be able to shift until he recovers.”

“Best not to have his bones moving around until his leg’s more stable anyway,” Matsukawa adds.

“Why did he have a pup?” Kyoutani asks.

Iwaizumi’s been wondering the same thing. Shifters are rare in Japan, living unbeknownst to society at large. They were pack creatures that clumped together, so everyone in a given radius knew everyone else. Lines were drawn, territories maintained. Still, finding a lone Alpha roaming around wasn’t necessarily unheard of. But one with a pup and no Omega in sight?

It made no sense.

“Kyoutani, bring up one of the crates from the basement. We’ll stick him in there for now. He shouldn’t move around much anyway.”

“We can handle the rest of this,” Hanamaki interrupts, “I think you need to go talk to Oikawa before the neighbors get any more suspicious.”

Iwaizumi sighs.

It’s still raining outside, luckily, and so Oikawa isn’t able to go far or cause much of a scene. In fact he’s stuck on their porch, pacing back and forth, muttering nonsense to himself. Iwaizumi doesn’t have time to say anything. The moment he steps out, Oikawa’s brown eyes are on him.

And then the rest of him is on him, hands gripping tight to his shoulders, “Did he touch you? Why do you _reek_ of him?”

Iwaizumi relaxes his shoulders, fighting off the urge to push the Alpha away. Instead, he cranes his neck in a rare show of submission, offering it up willingly, “I had to get close to calm him down.”

Oikawa frowns, but he takes the invitation, burying his face into the crook of Iwaizumi’s neck to breathe him in. The change is instantaneous, as his Alpha melts into him. Iwaizumi softens, nuzzling his own face into Oikawa’s chest as the man scent marks him thoroughly. He can never stay upset at his mate, not when he’s surrounded by him, by all of him.

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa murmurs against his skin, “You _have_ to be more careful.”

“I can handle my own,” Iwaizumi reminds him.

Oikawa rests his forehead against his shoulder, dropping the subject with a tone of defeat, “When can we get rid of him?”

Iwaizumi snorts, bringing a hand up to run through Oikawa’s hair, “When we can talk to him. And when he can shift.”

Oikawa lifts his head, “You said Kunimi’s first heat is due anytime now! I don’t want a strange Alpha in the house.”

“We still have time,” Iwaizumi assures him.

Oikawa grits his teeth.

Iwaizumi kisses him.

That’s all it takes, really. At least, in that moment, because Oikawa sighs and gives in.

He kisses him back.

* * *

“Oh thank God, please help.”

Iwaizumi blinks, pausing in the doorway as he takes in the chaos laying out before him. Yahaba stands in the middle of it, hands full of wet clothes and at a loss. Around him is a whirlwind of wolves, nipping and wrestling and dashing from wall to wall.

“He wouldn’t shift, so Kindaichi and Kunimi shifted to see if that would help and, and well,” Yahaba tries to explain.

Iwaizumi snorts. Oikawa squeezes past him, hands on his hips, “Boys!” he barks out. The wolf pups all stutter to a halt, clawed paws skidding on the hardwood floor for purchase. They end up all in a heap, but Kindaichi and Kunimi do their best to scurry away and sit at attention, leaving the stranger flopped on the floor.

Oikawa squints at him with a deep frown. The pup stares at him, blue eyes wide and terrified.

“Shift into a person,” Oikawa orders.

The pup stares at him.

“He might not know how,” Iwaizumi reminds.

Oikawa tsks, picking the pup up and holding him at arms length, “At least this one’s cute.”

Iwaizumi snorts again. Oikawa ignores him, looking over to the other pair of pups, “Shift back in front of him.” He looks back at the pup in his hands and turns him so he's forced to direct his fish-eyed stare at them instead, “Watch them as they turn.”

Kindaichi and Kunimi scrape their paws against the wood, bones shifting and fur receding in an effortless shake, revealing two naked young boys. Yahaba hands them some dry outfits. As they grumble and dress he works to dry their hair with a towel.

Oikawa places the pup on the ground, “Now you.”

The pup simply keeps its wide gaze on him.

“Useless,”Oikawa shakes his head, “Maybe it's just a dog.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Iwaizumi mutters, squatting down to pat the pups head, “You can smell him, can’t you.”

Oikawa turns away, “I’m hungry.”

That’s all it takes for Kindaichi and Kunimi to perk up. Kindaichi races down the steps to the kitchen, hand dragging Kunimi beside him. The wolf pup barks out, startled into following them. Yahaba wilts, letting the towel drop to the floor. Iwaizumi pats his shoulder sympathetically.

“You’re so patient, Iwaizumi-san,” Yahaba murmurs, “How do you do it?”

Iwaizumi laughs, ruffling the teenagers hair, “A lifetime dealing with Oikawa does that to a person.”

Yahaba shudders which only makes Iwaizumi laugh harder. But he also knocks his shoulder, giving a crooked smile, “Hey, be nice to your pack leader.”

Yahaba lets out a sigh, but he smiles all the same as he heads down the stairs. Iwaizumi follows after him, making sure to flick the light off as he goes.

When Iwaizumi enters the kitchen, any evidence of the Alpha is gone, other than the lingering metallic scent. Someone cracked the windows open—most likely Kyoutani. Oikawa sits at the head of the freshly cleaned off table, arms crossed and brooding. Iwaizumi takes his seat on his right. Matsukawa sits to Oikawa’s left. Yahaba is helping Hanamaki set out the food they’d been preparing before Iwaizumi brought a giant mess home.

Kindaichi and Kunimi are riled up from the events, energy bursting from their limbs and hunger gnawing at their stomachs. Kindaichi, being the braver, more energetic of the two, shoves his hand out to grab at pork rib. In doing so he reaches into Kyoutani’s fear, who lunges forward to snap at the hand to _get the fuck away_.

Kindaichi wrenches his arm back in fear. Yahaba slaps Kyoutani’s shoulder in reprimand. Oikawa sends a fierce glare, “Kyo-Ken, apologize!”

Kyoutani ignores the order, but he does hunch his shoulders up and glare at his plate.

Kyoutani had always been testy since they picked him up last year, but ever since he had his first rut a few weeks ago he had become absolutely _impossible_. The stranger Alpha pheromones in the air probably weren’t helping. Oikawa drops it for now. Hanamaki helps fill up the pups’ plates to prevent anymore animosity.

Something tugs at Oikawa’s pant leg and he looks down. The foreign pup is there, still shifted, pawing at the fabric. He glares, shoving him back with his foot, “You can eat when you’re human.”

“Don’t be cruel,” Iwaizumi mutters.

“We can only eat when we’re human,” Kindaichi pipes up, seemingly having recovered from his fright, “Why is it any different for him!”

“Kindaichi,” Iwaizumi warns, and the pup falls silent, sinking back into his chair, muttering something only Kunimi can hear.

The foreign pup barks, pawing again at Oikawa’s leg. Oikawa ignores him. Iwaizumi takes mercy, picking him up, but the wolf squirms in his grip, managing to climb onto Oikawa’s lap.

Iwaizumi can’t help his grin, “He likes you, Oikawa.”

“He could have _fleas_ ,” Oikawa hisses in disgust, craning his neck to keep the pup away.

“He might be traumatized,” Yahaba offers, finally sitting down, “Maybe that’s his dad he saw get run over. You’re the _only_ other Alpha here. He probably likes your smell.”

Kyoutani shoots him a glare, lips peeling back in the preview of a snarl. Yahaba ignores him.

“Don’t Alphas smell bad?” Matsukawa asks.

Oikawa glares at him, “We do not!”

“Sometimes,” Iwaizumi concedes, keeping his grin up. Oikawa whirls to look at him but Iwaizumi just pinches his cheek, “Only sometimes.”

“Iwa-chan! I smell bad?” Oikawa whines, leaning into the touch and the comfort of familiarity.

Iwaizumi softens, like he always does when it comes to his dear Oikawa, “I try to tell myself that, because most of the time you smell _delicious_.”

There’s a groan from the rest of the table, but it’s worth it to see Oikawa’s face light up and his chest puff out. Iwaizumi wants to kiss him. Iwaizumi wants to do more than kiss him. But it’ll have to wait for now.

Kyoutani kicks his chair back to stand up, disrupting the moment with his loud stomps, “I’m gonna go feed the intruder,” he growls, not even bothering to cover up his angry stench. It hits Iwaizumi and Kunimi the worst, the former wrinkling his nose and the latter actually gagging.

Yahaba rolls his eyes at the entire display, “He needs to grow up.”

“That’s the problem,” Oikawa mutters, “He _is_ growing up.” He leans back in his chair, looking over at Kindaichi who freezes—mid reach for a second helping of pork rib, “Kin-chan, don’t ever be like that when you grow up.”

Kindaichi quickly nods. Oikawa smiles.

The pup in his lap licks his chin.

Oikawa’s smile drops.

He’d forgotten the damn thing was even there.

* * *

Oikawa has his legs drawn up to his chest on the arm chair. Iwaizumi sits beside him on the neighboring couch. Matsukawa is on the floor, leaning against his hands, and Hanamaki sits next to Iwaizumi, draped comfortably over him. Hanamaki’s sense of smell is poor, like any other beta, but when he presses his face so close Iwaizumi reasons he must smell _something_ soothing.

They had put all the pups to bed. Even the foreign one clunked out after dinner on a spare futon. Yahaba and Kyoutani were sent up to their room next—which reminds Oikawa, that they really need to get Kyoutani his own room, now that he’s had his first rut. Maybe it would help with his territorial behavior and his rotten attitude. But that was going to have to wait, again, because Iwaizumi just had to drag in a new problem.

“I was crunching the numbers,” Hanamaki says, pulling his phone out to swipe over to his notes app, “We’ll be fine with one more mouth to feed, but two? Things get a bit dicey with the budget there.”

“He’s not _staying_ ,” Oikawa snarls, pulled from his thoughts at the very idea.

Iwaizumi puts a hand on his arm, “For the time being he has too.”

“Do you think there’s a new pack in town? Maybe Karasuno’s back?” Matsukawa scratches the back of his neck.

Oikawa leans back, unfolding his legs, “Karasuno was wiped out by Nekoma a long time ago. They only had one or two wolves left. He doesn’t smell like any of them. He’s a rogue. Unpredictable. Dangerous.”

“He has a pup with him,” Iwaizumi insists.

“What _does_ he smell like then?” Hanamaki asks, “Enlighten us.”

“Gasoline and rotting flesh,” Oikawa hisses.

“He has a metallic undertone,” Iwaizumi offers instead, “I don’t recognize it.”

“He reeks,” Oikawa mutters, fingers squeezing into his palms. Iwaizumi flicks his gaze toward him, catching the hint of anxiety embedded in the syllables of his tone. He rubs Oikawa’s hand, helping it to unclench.

“Let’s stop talking about it,” Iwaizumi decides, standing up, “We can leave it for the morning.” Hanamaki lets out an impromptu whine when he’s abandoned.

“What?” Oikawa sputters, “We’re not done talking!”

Iwaizumi ignores him in favor of sitting on his lap. He makes a motion with his head, toward their other packmates, who obey his silent order and move toward them.

Oikawa doesn’t get much say as he’s surrounded by his pack, each of them pressing against him until he’s not sure where one of them starts and the other ends. He wants to argue, to keep pushing the issue, but he can’t help how the anxiety loosens from the contact and his muscles instinctively relax when he’s cradled by the combined scents of the three of them. His chest rumbles, involuntarily, which just makes the trio more adamant about spending the night in a warm cuddle pile.

Oikawa finally succumbs, nuzzling his face into all their necks, doing his best to scentmark them all.

He’s not sure how long they all lay there in the living room, simply enjoying each others warmth and company. But eventually Matsukawa groans about his back, and Hanamaki mutters about work in the morning, and they all start to migrate up the stairs to bed. Hanamaki and Matsukawa to their own room, Iwaizumi and Oikawa to theirs.

Iwaizumi is drowsy, limbs heavy with sleep as he tugs Oikawa into bed to latch onto his arm. But Oikawa pries him off, murmuring soft apologies into his mates ear as he climbs out of bed. Iwaizumi groans, sinking his face into his pillow, muttering that he doesn’t have to do rounds _every_ night. And that he was just being a worry-wart.

But it's more than that.

Oikawa takes pride in his position in the pack. He’s their leader, their Pack Alpha, and it’s his responsibility to keep everyone safe. He has to be sure of it, every night, _especially_ tonight.

He pads softly to the teenagers room. Both have long since fallen asleep in their separate beds. He smooths Yahaba’s hair out of his face. He fixes Kyoutani’s sheet and nuzzles his neck to scent mark him, mostly to tease him about it in the morning. He steps into the pup’s room next, smiling fondly at the cuddle pile the pair always end up in from rolling around in their sleep. This time, however, they have a third member in their arms. He sighs.

He steps back and closes the door. He glances toward his bedroom door, where Iwaizumi is waiting for him. He looks down at the stairs.

He bites his lip and ventures down. All the way down, walking past the kitchen and through the basement door. Down into the darkness, flicking on the light as he reaches the bottom of the stairs. Their basement is unfinished. Another project on his mind’s lengthy list. It’s dimly lit, with a naked mattress resting against one of the cement walls. A row of spare crates line the adjacent wall, the last one sitting beside the metal cabinet full of miscellaneous supplies.

The basement was mostly for storage but had recently been converted to cope with Kyoutani’s sudden first rut. Oikawa makes a mental note that they should actually put up dry wall and make the space nice. Despite all the ill tempered snarling and disrespect, he still found locking the teenager up in here for three days horribly depressing. There weren’t even any windows.

One crate is left in the middle of the room, and within it lays a sleeping wolf. Oikawa pads quietly over, peering at the massive creature. He opens the cage door and steps back.

Oikawa shifts.

Its an elegant blur, refined with years of practice. A simple step, a rippling of toned muscle, a twirl of limbs and flip of hair. And then he stands, a proud brown wolf, head held high. He steps forward and nudges the beast, until the animal stirs and blinks its golden eyes open. Oikawa takes a step back patiently, curling his tail around his paws and waiting for the disoriented wolf to gather himself.

After a moment, the wolf sits up stiffly and takes in his surroundings. He doesn’t pay Oikawa any mind, turnings lightly to lick at his bandaged wound.

The Alpha’s scent is even _more_ overpowering when in this form. Oikawa’s nose wrinkles as it hits him. The stench of pure Alpha is suffocating, and the worst part is the wolf isn’t even _trying_. His scent simply cascades from him, a force to be reckoned with, bulldozing all in his path. For Oikawa’s scent to exude so torrentially he would have to be furious beyond belief, he would have to be exerting everything in his power to have his pheromone build enough potency.

And then it hits him.

He peels his lips back to bare his teeth.

The wolf finally looks his way, only to tilt his head to the side. Oikawa’s claws scrape at the cement flooring at the realization that this wolf, this _Alpha_ does not see him as a threat. How—how, _infuriating_.

“Will you introduce yourself?” the stranger asks. His voice is deep and commanding without effort.

Oikawa glares at him, “You are a guest in _my_ territory, state your name first.”

The wolf blinks. His eyes are golden and piercing, “Ushijima Wakatoshi.”

“Who are you?”

“I told you my name. Are you hard of hearing?”

Oikawa gives a warning growl, but the wolf barely bats an eyelash at his display of aggression. Oikawa licks his lips, “What pack are you from?”

The wolf keeps his gaze, “I have none at the moment. Other then,” he pauses, standing up and stepping out of his crate completely to look around, “Is Kageyama alright?”

“Your pup?” Oikawa seethes.

“He is not _mine_ ,” Ushijima corrects, sitting back down. He’s taller than Oikawa, “I found him. Is he alright?”

Oikawa feels a snarl burning up his throat, “So you’re a _pup-snatcher_?”

Ushijima actually looks offended, eyes squinting as his face actually changes expression for the first time, “You talk quite freely for such a pretty Omega. Does your Alpha know you are here alone?”

Oikawa’s fur stands on end, rage blinding his humanity as the snarl within finally unleashes. He lashes out and before Ushijima has any time to react, he is biting at his neck. Ushijima shouts and manages to shake him off and back away. But his injured leg has him hissing and unsteady, letting out a warning growl. His is deeper, and it rattles Oikawa’s very bones, but he refuses to submit to its call. This is _his_ territory, _his_ pack— _his pride—_ on the line _._

He lunges again, bowling the other Alpha over and clawing at his side. He kicks his injured leg, drinking up the loud pained keen he receives for his efforts. But Ushijima gets a surge of adrenaline from the shock of pain and manages to push Oikawa down and bite at his shoulder. Before he can make any kind of firm contact however, he freezes, mouth open and receptive to the pheromones coming off the glands at the base of Oikawa’s neck.

He pulls away completely when the scent finally hits him. Oikawa takes the moment to scrabble back onto his feet.

“You’re an Alpha?” Ushijima hisses, golden eyes wide.

Oikawa smirks, baring all his canines.

“But,” Ushijima grapples, “You’re so beautiful?”

Oikawa lunges again with another deafening snarl, but before he can sink his teeth into the intruder’s neck and snap his spine in half, he’s being held back by strong muscular arms around his neck. He stills as Iwaizumi murmurs words in his ear, until the human in him is coaxed back into control. He shakes his muzzle, leaning into his mate and taking in a calming breath.

“Your mate,” Ushijima murmurs, squinting up at the new man, “Two…Two Alphas?”

“You’re pretty dense, aren’t you Ushiwaka?”

“Ushijima,” Ushijima corrects.

Oikawa decides he’s had enough, turning his face to nuzzle into Iwaizumi’s warm side. He lets out a long sigh, and in that same moment, ripples outward in a smooth transition back to his human form.

Iwaizumi helps him put on his clothes without asking about the fight. Oikawa can tell he probably has an inkling to what must have set him off. Oikawa doesn’t want to talk about it. Never really does. Neither of them do.

Ushijima watches them a moment with critical eyes. And then he heaves himself back up, keeping his wounded leg off the ground. He steps forward, shaking his fur as _he_ shifts. It’s much less elegant and from the pained hiss, much more painful. But the wolf pushes through steadfast until the man finally appears.

He’s just as massive.

 _Infuriating_.

Ushijima stumbles, his bad leg buckling under him. Iwaizumi moves instinctively, coming forward to catch the man before he face-plants onto the cement. He grabs hold of his arm, helping him to stand up and keep off his bad leg.

He’s muscular. Iwaizumi can feel the strength of his biceps. There’s a sheen of sweat coating his body, glistening where his heaving chest catches the dim light of the ceiling bulb. His leg needs new attention, the gauze stretched loosely and ineffective. His face is chiseled from stone, harsh lines and a stern expression. He’s handsome. Very handsome. Iwaizumi can’t help it. He can’t tear his eyes away. Now that the Alpha is human, and he’s human too, his scent ripples off him in strong waves to the beat of his smooth chest. He’s naked, too. Completely, and Iwaizumi can see _everything_.

Oikawa wrenches Iwaizumiback toward the stairs. It breaks the spell instantly.Iwaizumi almost falls from the strength of the shove, but Oikawa is quick to catch him. The anger is gone, replaced with a sudden shock of worry. Iwaizumi shakes his head, trying to clear his mind from the haze of pheromones around them. Suffocating. Overwhelming.

“An Omega?” Ushijima hisses, from where he’s slumped on the cold ground.

Despite this, his deep voice feels close, like it was breathed straight into Iwaizumi’s ear. His shoulders hunch up protectively over his bond mark and if not for Oikawa’s strong hold of him his knees may have buckled completely. He’s sweating too now, the fabric of his clothes sticking to his skin in newly formed patches. He’s shaking. And the haze won’t clear, no matter how much he shakes his head.

But then Oikawa lets out a snarl like no other, guttural, menacing and powerful, enough so that the other Alpha is forced to hobble backward. The sound reverberates in Iwaizumi’s chest and his legs _do_ give out then as he tries to sink all the way into Oikawa, Oikawa, _his Oikawa_.

And it all becomes too much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well that was incredibly self indulgent. 
> 
> if there's interest i'll keep it going. i just felt mad inspired today to finally bite the bullet and do my take on an abo-verse lol
> 
> let me know what y'all think
> 
> talk to me on twitter @findingschmomo
> 
> see you next time~


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iwaizumi doesn’t know what sets him off, exactly. If it’s the memories of the night before he’d been doing his best to repress, if it's the comforting aroma of chocolate and coffee, so sweet and fluffy and unlike any Alpha, but so naturally Oikawa that suddenly surrounds him, or if it's Oikawa’s quiet tone and his hand reaching out. But whatever it is, the Omega in Iwaizumi bursts forth at the invitation.

Iwaizumi lets out an uncharacteristic whine, shuddering and shivering. The cool sheen of sweat feels icy against his skin. He rolls his head on the slick sheets, forcing his eyes open. He parts his lips to take in a few deeper breaths, trying to clear his muddled brain.

Someone wipes at his brow with a towel. He flicks his gaze to see Yahaba, looking down at him.

Iwaizumi closes his eyes again, but Yahaba nudges him to sit up properly. He groans but obeys, hauling himself up onto the pillows.

“You should drink some water,” Yahaba says, quietly.

“Where’s Oikawa?” Iwaizumi asks, taking the offered glass, “And the, the Alpha.”

Yahaba frowns, “Oikawa-san was right.”

Iwaizumi squints at him.

Yahaba fiddles with the bedsheet. Iwaizumi takes a sip of his drink. Once the water hits the back of his throat he realizes how parched he really is and ends up downing the glass. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, “What happened?”

Yahaba frowns deeper, keeping his head bowed, “You all…You all went feral.” He looks up again, expression severe, “But, but as _people_.”

Iwaizumi furrows his brow.

“It was _terrifying_ , Iwaizumi-san,” Yahaba insists, voice croaking, “I’ve never seen Oikawa-san like that. It took all of us to separate you all.”

Iwaizumi places the cup down on the nightstand, “Where’s Oikawa?”

“He’s outside. Matsukawa and Hanamaki went to work.”

“Why aren’t you at school?”

Yahaba glares, “And leave you three alone? After last night?” Iwaizumi frowns but Yahaba shrugs it off, “Don’t worry, I walked the pups to school.”

Iwaizumi climbs out of his bed, eyes widening as his legs almost buckle beneath him. Yahaba grabs his arm and Iwaizumi sits back down, staring at the offending limbs.

“Maybe you shouldn’t walk,” Yahaba murmurs, his trembling grip betraying his worry.

Iwaizumi shakes his head, standing up again slowly to test his strength. He’s shaky but able to straighten up. Weird…his legs feel like jelly, but that only happens when…

He frowns.

That’s impossible.

“Where’s the Alpha?” he asks, as he shuffles out of his bedroom. Yahaba follows behind him, hands ready to catch him if he falls.

“He’s tied up in the kitchen. KyouKen’s watching him.”

“Why isn’t Kyoutani at school?”

Yahaba snorts, “Like he ever is.”

Iwaizumi sighs. As he ventures down the stairs the metallic scent of the Alpha wafts up to him. He wrinkles his nose. The haze no longer holds him, and instead his stomach rolls with nausea. He’d never succumbed to instinct so easily. Never lost his rationality from smell alone. He squeezes the banister with his hands. Never again.

He turns away and steps outside, waving Yahaba away.

Oikawa is sitting on the porch, his posture pensive as he stares out at the busy street in front of him. He flicks his gaze over and his expression softens, “Iwa-chan…are you feeling alright?”

Iwaizumi doesn’t know what sets him off, exactly. If it’s the memories of the night before he’d been doing his best to repress, if it's the comforting aroma of chocolate and coffee, so sweet and fluffy and unlike any Alpha, but so naturally _Oikawa_ that suddenly surrounds him, or if it's Oikawa’s quiet tone and his hand reaching out. But whatever it is, the Omega in Iwaizumi bursts forth at the invitation. And it’s different than with the stench of that strange Alpha, where his instinct was wrenched out of him and beaten down.

Oikawa’s hand is open, his scent is soft and barely there, and he is vulnerable too, with his shaky nerves and wet eyes. And Iwaizumi wants to protect as much as he wants to cling. It’s different. It’s them.

Iwaizumi sits down beside him, immediately burying his face in Oikawa’s neck and breathing him in. Oikawa wraps a slim arm around him to bring him closer, tucking him under his chin. And Oikawa is lanky and thin, but there is power rippling underneath his moisturized skin, and it is comforting to feel it against Iwaizumi’s back.

“Tooru,” he mutters, into his skin, “I think he triggered a false heat.”

“I know,” Oikawa murmurs, rubbing a hand against his back, “Don’t worry. Nothing happened.”

“I hear you went feral?”

“How could I not?” Oikawa counters, petulantly, “The audacity of that asshole. A _guest_ in our home and he goes after _my_ mate.”

Iwaizumi snorts, forcing on a smile and nipping lightly at Oikawa’s shoulder, “He didn’t know what I was. He probably didn’t mean it.”

Oikawa pulls back, “There you go defending him again!”

Iwaizumi sighs, “I’m not defending him.”

“You should have heard what he said to me,” Oikawa huffs, taking his arm back in order to cross them across his chest, “Asking me where _my_ Alpha was. I swear, he was putting moves on me, the nerve!”

Iwaizumi can’t help the growl that’s pulled up from his throat, “He _what_?”

Oikawa laughs, sitting up, “Oh, so _now_ you’re on my side.”

Iwaizumi squints at him but can’t keep his gaze, looking toward the road instead. “He can’t leave yet. He can’t walk.”

Oikawa raises an eyebrow, “He said I was _beautiful_.”

Iwaizumi’s lips peel back instinctively, “We have to set ground rules.”

Oikawa giggles, “Am I not beautiful, Iwa-chan? How rude. Maybe Alpha-chan _is_ the nicer option?”

Iwaizumi snaps at him, teeth clacking near Oikawa’s ear, earning him more giggles and a kiss that turns much deeper. Iwaizumi tries to pull away after a moment, so he can go speak to the intruder in question, but Oikawa holds him back. He cards his fingers through his short coarse hair, “We’re not allowed to be in the same room without one of the Betas with us to intervene.”

Iwaizumi frowns, “Yahaba’s here.”

“Yahaba’s just a pup.”

“He’s sixteen, Oikawa.”

“Always my pup,” Oikawa insists, pressing a kiss to Iwaizumi’s cheek, wet and insistent.

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes, but his heart squeezes whenever his mate is this affectionate, _especially_ about pups. Still, he pushes on, “Since when do the Betas call the shots here, Pack Leader?”

Oikawa laughs again, squeezing Iwaizumi closer, “Mm, you have a point. But I’d much rather stay out here with you then smell the awful stench inside.”

“Oikawa.”

“Stay,” the Alpha murmurs, nibbling at his neck, “Matsun and Makki will be home soon enough.”

Iwaizumi sighs, but he gives in all the same, like he always does when it comes to Oikawa Tooru.

He sinks right into him.

* * *

Matsukawa slams a hand on the table, making the mug clatter and almost tip over. Hanamaki swivels his phone flashlight into the intruder’s face, making his eyes squint and shrink back. “Answer the question, Alpha Scum!”

“Isn’t this a bit much?” Iwaizumi mutters, tugging on the scarf wrapped tightly around his neck. Oikawa slaps his hand away from fussing with it, sporting similar stuffy attire. _Pheromones don’t even work this way,_ Iwaizumi thinks to himself.

“Yeah,” Kyoutani agrees, “I want to use my bat.”

“No,” Iwaizumi says, quickly, “We’re definitely not doing that.”

“He _hurt_ Iwaizumi-san!” Kyoutani growls, stepping threateningly closer to the captive Alpha, who merely blinks at him.

“KyouKen’s so cute,” Oikawa coos, reaching over to tickle his chin. The teen bites him and Oikawa cries out, “Mean! Iwa-chan! He’s being mean!”

“Focus!” Yahaba huffs, nudging Matsukawa.

Ushijma stares at them, “Do you call this a pack?”

“ _Excuse me?”_ Oikawa hisses, petty wound completely forgotten.

“We’re the ones asking the questions here, bud,” Matsukawa reminds.

“You insist on calling yourself a Pack Alpha?” Ushijma ignores him, keeping his stern gaze on Oikawa, “You command no respect. You give out no discipline.”

Iwaizumi squeezes Oikawa’s arm before he can slash it out. Oikawa bites the inside of his cheek, giving an icy smile, “A lot of confidence from a beast left for dead on the side of the road.”

Ushijima breaks the gaze to look over at Matsukawa and Oikawa counts it as a small victory.

“My name is Ushijima Wakatoshi. How many times must I repeat myself?”

“Why are you alone?” Matsukawa presses.

“Packs are not a necessity. In fact, in some cases, they can be…detrimental.”

Oikawa bares his teeth.

Matsukawa ignores him, “What about the pup?”

“I found him. Where is he?”

“Upstairs,” Yahaba answers.

“Where’s his mother?” Hanamaki asks.

Ushijima shrugs.

Iwaizumi frowns. The Alpha knows more than he is letting on. He can tell. He’s just not sure how to press him. For the most part he’s been keeping his scent to himself, but the fear of last night keeps Iwaizumi from straying too close.

“May we go now?” Ushijima huffs, tugging at the chains keeping him tied to the chair.

“You can’t walk,” Hanamaki reminds.

“I am unwelcome here.”

“You haven’t been a great guest, either,” Iwaizumi snaps.

Ushijima blinks, leveling his piercing golden gaze at the Omega in the room. He licks his lips and Iwaizumi unconsciously presses a bit closer to Oikawa, “I apologize. I did not mean to overwhelm you.”

Oikawa glares at him, straightening up to his full height, “Didn’t _mean_ to? What a load of bull. You were drowning him in that basement with your awful stench.”

Ushijima scowls at him. “It wasn’t for _him_ ,” he growls. He lets out a grunt, turning his face to the side, “There was a misunderstanding. I apologize. Drop it.”

Oikawa leans forward, the end of his scarf hanging between them, “A misunderstanding, you say? What kind of wolf floods the room of his kind saviors with pheromones? Other than some sort of predator? An untrustworthy scum of the earth?”

Ushijma growls, low and testing, gold eyes fierce. “You tricked me,” he snaps, “What was I supposed to think? When it looks as though a pretty Omega has come down and let me free of my cage?”

“You still think I’m pretty?” Oikawa coos, his frost tinged voice spitting sharp icicles into Ushijima’s face. The intruder snaps at him and Iwaizumi reels Oikawa back, squeezing his shoulder. Oikawa obeys.

Kyoutani slams his fist on the table. “This is stupid!” he shouts, “We should just get rid of him!”

“Put that bat down,” Yahaba snaps, “You look like an idiot.”

Kyoutani snarls at him, but Yahaba doesn’t react other than to roll his eyes. It just infuriates the young Alpha all the more. Matsukawa takes the bat from him while he’s distracted, earning him another growl.

“May I at least see the pup?” Ushijima sighs, leaning back in his chair.

“Why?” Oikawa retorts, “He isn’t yours.”

Ushijima huffs, “To make sure he is alright., I apologize for last night. I am thankful for the medical attention. I simply wish to take the pup and go.”

“The pup’s not going anywhere,” Iwaizumi says firmly.

Oikawa’s grip on Iwaizumi’s arm tightens, nails digging in, and Iwaizumi reads the message loud and clear, _we never said we’d keep him_.

Still, Oikawa doesn’t let the disagreement flash on his face, instead backing him up, “Hanging around with a strange rogue Alpha is no life for someone that young.”

Ushijima squints, “But being in a house of dysfunction is?”

Anger flashes hot and torrid in both Iwaizumi’s and Oikawa’s eyes, the very synchronicity of it making Ushijima fall silent and turn his head away.

“Iwaizumi-san.”

All heads turn at the tiny voice breaking through the chaos. Kindaichi stands by the stairs, fingers digging into the bars beneath the banister.

“What?” Iwaizumi asks, perhaps rougher than necessary.

Kindaichi shrinks back a little, but continues, “Kunimi wants water. And me too.”

“I’ll handle it,” Yahaba murmurs, stepping around Kyoutani toward the fridge. The conversation remains dead, the air punctuated only by the faucet filling up two plastic cups. It isn’t until Kindaichi and Yahaba leave the room entirely that the adults (and Kyoutani) begin speaking again.

“Here’s the way I see it,” Hanamaki says, shutting off his phone flashlight, “You’ve been an ass, but you’re hurt and the pup you have is stuck in shift. We can’t let you all go like this. It’s suspicious on us. And what if the pup shifts in the open? It’s too risky.” He cracks his fingers, “So, for the time being at least, you’re going to have to stay.”

Matsukawa nods.

“KyouKen’s plan is starting to sound more appealing,” Oikawa muses.

Iwaizumi nudges him with his elbow and the Alpha winces.

Ushijima frowns, “Do I have to be chained the entire time?”

“You’re not exactly trustworthy,” Hanamaki smirks.

“It’s best to not move around so much with a broken leg,” Matsukawa adds.

“We could always put you back in the crate?” Oikawa offers with his own grin.

Ushijima glares at the lot of them, straightening up his back, “This is fine. For now.”

* * *

Yahaba hands off the cups of water before deciding to tidy up the pups’ room. The futons he had neatly rolled up that morning have been kicked around. There are random chew toys strewn about. The foreign pup, _Kageyama_ , if he remembers right, is gnawing on one right now.

He refolds everything and starts collecting the discarded items to pile them back in the little chest in the corner. Kindaichi helps, handing his water to Kunimi who’s already finished his own cup.

“Thank you, Kindaichi,” Yahaba says, ruffling his hair.

Kindaichi beams, puffing out his chest and leaning into the touch.

Yahaba doesn’t really want to go back downstairs. “Do you want to go for a walk. Just the four of us?”

Kindaichi blinks, clearly interested, “Does Kageyama have to?”

“How do you know his name?” Yahaba asks.

Kindaichi shrugs, “I asked him.”

Yahaba smiles, “Yes, he has to come too.”

Kindaichi’s face falls but he nods, “Fine.”

“Is it cold outside?” Kunimi asks quietly.

Yahaba pulls out his phone to check, “A bit breezy. You should be fine. Go grab your leashes and meet me downstairs okay?”

Yahaba grabs his wallet and keys from his bedroom, snatching his own leash from his closet. His harness is way too big, but he knows Oikawa is sentimental and probably kept one of his older ones. He digs through the corner of the closet finally stumbling on a ratty dark blue harness. It’s still a bit big but he should be able to adjust it.

When he goes down the pups are by the front door. Kunimi is sitting on the ground doing his best to pry his shoes off. Kindaichi has already shifted, leaving his clothes in a disheveled pile on the floor. Yahaba sighs and refolds his shirt, placing it neatly atop his pants and pushing them to the side. He grabs Kageyama, manhandling him until he’s able to put the harness on. The boy seems confused, twirling around and around and attempting to gnaw it off. Yahaba clips the leash on it. He helps Kindaichi into his harness next.

Kunimi is still struggling with his shoes, so Yahaba takes over. Kunimi lets him do all the work until he’s undressed. He hesitates a moment before shifting into his dark gray wolf form. Yahaba smooths his fur and scratches him behind the ear as he hooks up his harness.

“Where are you going?”

Yahaba hunches his shoulders up but then forces himself to calm down and face the young Alpha. He smiles, “Taking the pups out for a walk.”

Kyoutani purses his lips, shoving his hands in his pockets. Yahaba raises a brow, “What? Does somebody want their own walk too? Go grab your leash.”

Kyoutani scowls, pushing past them, “I’m not being leashed.”

Yahaba glares after him, “You can’t free roam. We’ll get in trouble.”

“I’m not gonna shift,” Kyoutani snaps, opening the front door. He turns away and doesn’t hold it open. With him out of sight Yahaba lets out a frustrated growl. Kindaichi paws at his ankle and he shakes the anger away, forcing on a smile for the little ones.

“We’re taking the pups out for a walk!” he shouts as he leaves.

“Come back before dark!” Hanamaki calls back. Yahaba thinks someone else tries to say something too, but the door closes and there’s only so much daylight left. He’d rather just tire the pups out.

Kyoutani stands by the sidewalk, loitering.

Yahaba ignores him, urging the pups to start walking. Kindaichi and Kageyama vy for the lead while Kunimi trudges behind them, keeping close to Yahaba’s pace. Fortunately all the pair in front do is occasionally nip at each other when either gets too close.

Kyoutani catches up to them, falling into pace with Yahaba.

Yahaba can’t smell. But he doesn’t need to in order to feel the brooding energy coming off the Alpha next to him. It’s oppressive ad heavy and irks him to no end. “What!? Just spit it out, KyouKen.”

Kyoutani seems startled by the question, fingers squeezing inside his pockets. Yahaba expects some sort of retort, but instead the teen just continues glaring at the ground, “Why are you always with the pups?”

Yahaba isn’t expecting this, “What?”

“You’re not an Omega,” Kyoutani mutters, “Why are you so obsessed with them.”

Yahaba squints at him, “I’m taking care of our packmates. That’s what a pack _does_.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Kyoutani huffs, “You’re—You’re _always_ with them now.”

Yahaba rolls his eyes, tugging Kindaichi’s leash to keep him from straying too close to the road. “Someone’s gotta,” he shrugs, pausing to let Kageyama sniff at the base of a tree. “Maybe I wouldn’t if you stepped up. Why don’t you make yourself useful? Is it ‘cause you’re an _Alpha_ so you can’t?”

“That’s not—”

“Then what! Kyoutani!?” Yahaba snarls, eyes flashing. Kyoutani glares right back, hand reaching out, but Yahaba doesn’t flinch. Kyoutani doesn’t hit him, he just grabs one of the leashes and takes it.

It’s Kunimi’s, and the pup seems annoyed to have to speed up his trot, but once he’s at Kyoutani’s heel he’s able to slow back down again. Yahaba lets out a sigh, rubbing his temple with his fingers. A quiet growl brings his hand down from his face to find his two pups wrestling. Great.

He tugs on their leashes before separating them physically. Kageyama bites at his hand, but his teeth don’t pierce the skin. Kindaichi growls louder.

“Stop it you two,” Yahaba orders, “Or I’m turning around.”

Kindaichi quiets down, pawing at the ground sulkily. Kageyama releases Yahaba’s hand and turns away to sniff at the tree again.

Kyoutani is waiting at the end of the street.Kunimi sits patiently by his leg. Yahaba is feeling petty and takes his time to reach them, not bothering to rush the two pups he has. It takes him several minutes to reach his side. He’s sure to get an earful, but he doesn’t care. Kyoutani had been so infuriatingly impatient lately.

Kyoutani doesn’t look at him, “Did you bring water?”

Yahaba blinks at the unexpected question, rifling through his bag. It’s early spring, and the air has a slight chill to it. They’ve only walked down a few blocks. He hadn’t planned on water breaks. Luckily, he has his own water bottle crammed at the bottom of his bag. He pulls it out and hands it to Kyoutani.

Kyoutani takes it but crouches down, pouring water into the cap to create a makeshift bowl. That’s when Yahaba notices that Kunimi is panting heavily. He frowns. Kunimi laps up the water greedily, thumping his tail back and forth. The tension drops from Yahaba’s shoulders at the happy sight. Kunimi had always been a bit lazy. Maybe he’d gotten out of shape over the winter. He’ll have to take him out running more.

Kyoutani returns the bottle when Kunimi is satisfied, “Let’s go back.”

“Already?”

Kyoutani picks Kunimi up in his arms, and the pup snuggles close to him, burying his face into the crook of his shoulder. Yahaba stares at the picture it paints, wondering if Kageyama’s bite had done something to his brain. Maybe Kyoutani had taken what he said about the pups to heart?

Kyoutani doesn’t look at him, just starts walking back towards their home. Yahaba feels rooted to the spot until Kindaichi tugs him forward, adamant about following after his best friend.

* * *

Kindaichi trots up the stairs, a few steps behind Kyoutani and Kunimi, with his leash dragging behind him. Yahaba would have followed, but Kageyama wrenches him toward the prisoner in the kitchen instead.

Or maybe toward the smell of food.

Regardless, he’s _fast_ and the leash slips free of Yahaba’s grasp.He slips off his shoes and hurries over into the kitchen where the adults are still sitting to rectify his mistake. “That was quick,” Matsukawa remarks.

“Hey!” Oikawa snaps, leaning down and grabbing Kageyama off the ground. The pup growls at him, squirming in his grip to free himself. He’d just been interrupted from his work biting at the chains holding Ushijima’s hands behind his back.

Ushijima smirks, “Hello, Kageyama.”

Kageyama falls still, pawing at the intruder. Oikawa frowns, bringing the pup closer to himself. The pup starts squirming again.

“He still hasn’t shifted back,” Iwaizumi mutters.

“I told him not to,” Ushijima says, “Until we are safe.”

Oikawa huffs, “Well, you’re safe now aren’t you?”

Ushijima lifts his hands the centimeter he’s able to, the chains clinking against each other noisily. “I would not call this safe.”

“ _He’s_ safe,” Iwaizumi replies, reaching out to scratch the wolf pup behind the ears.

Oikawa hands the pup off to Iwaizumi, eyes squinting and lips pursing. He pads closer, bringing his face close to the intruder, forcing him to pull his head slightly back, “There’s something you’re hiding. Something that’ll be obvious once the boy shifts, isn’t there?”

Ushijima doesn’t respond.

Oikawa snorts, straightening himself up, “Fine, we’ll just have to wait and see. Someone as young as him can’t hold his shift for too long. And then we’ll know.”

Ushijima doesn’t respond.

Hanamaki turns away from the stove, “Yahaba, can you set the table for me?”

Yahaba tears himself away from the confrontation to grab the plates from the dishwasher. He sets the table, hesitating until Iwaizumi gives him a nod to place one in front of Ushijima. Matsukawa brushes past them to call up the stairs that dinner is ready. Iwaizumi puts Kageyama down on the ground, unclipping his leash. Yahaba sets down a food bowl for him.

The pups come down fully dressed. Almost. Kindaichi is missing his socks. “Where are they?” Oikawa tuts.

Kindaichi shrugs, squirming past him to get into his seat at the table. Kunimi follows silently after him and Oikawa lets out a sigh. Matsukawa ruffles the pups’ hair and helps serve them a big heaping portion of rice and meat.

Dinner is…awkward, with Ushijima’s silent stare in the middle of it all. Oikawa makes a point of acting like everything is normal, ignoring the other Alpha’s very existence. He’s the only one fooled by the act. Everyone else keeps sharing glances. Except for the pups, who’s ravenous hunger has them focused solely on consuming their meals.

“How was school, Kin-chan? Kunimi-chan?” Oikawa asks, forcing his voice to break the obvious tension.

“Okay,” Kindaichi answers, “Kunimi fell asleep in math.”

“Again?” Matsukawa snorts.

“It’s boring,” Kunimi flushes, digging his chopsticks into his rice. He glares at Kindaichi who gives him a sheepish apologetic smile.

To make up for it, he adds something to deflect the unwanted attention, “How come Kageyama doesn’t have to go to school?”

“Worry about yourself,” Iwaizumi replies.

Kindaichi scowls, “He’s stupid though. He needs it more than us.”

“Kindaichi,” Matsukawa warns, “Why would you say something so mean?”

Kindaichi flushes, almost matching Kunimi’s hot red shade. “‘Cause it’s true,” he grumbles. He shoves more rice into his mouth.

“Your pups are not homeschooled?” Ushijima asks.

“We do things differently here,” Oikawa clips.

Ushijima tilts his head, furrowing his brows.His golden eyes shifting to look intently to Oikawa’s right, “Then what does your Omega _do_?”

Iwaizumi _bristles_.

Oikawa’s eyes are dark, his sweet scent beginning to harden, souring as it spreads, “Whatever he wishes to do.”

Ushijima doesn’t react to the change in atmosphere, “You have the Betas cook. I thought it was merely because you only have one Omega. Is there something wrong with him?”

“Your food is getting cold, Ushijima,” Hanamaki snaps, eyes just as fierce.

“I am unable to use my hands,” Ushijima says.

“Let me help you,” Iwaizumi says sweetly, before shoving Ushijima’s face into his plate. The sharp smack of his face hitting the plate, muffled only slightly by his rice echoes through the room. The aftershock knocks a few cups over and rattles the table, but no one seems to mind. Kageyama lets out a few alarmed barks, but he’s drowned out by the amused giggles from the other pups.

The laughs are short-lived as the humiliated Alpha begins to shake, anger beginning to emanate in waves from his reddening neck. His scent rusts, sharp and metallic in the air, steadily filling up the room. Iwaizumi kicks his chair over, disrupting the flow as the Alpha hits the floor with a loud thump,“How _dare_ you?”

Ushijima glares at him, as best he can from where he’s knocked over on the ground, “You all have succumbed to insanity! I am trying to bring you all back to your senses.”

Kageyama scurries over to lick his face, which makes his threat all the less impactful. Reminder of the pups’ presence has him dulling his scent. Oikawa crouches down by his face, poking his cheek, “We do things differently here,” he repeats, tracing the Alpha’s nose up to his forehead, careful not go near his dangerous mouth. “How many times do I have to tell you that, hmm?”

Ushijima glares at him.

“Can we go?” Kindaichi asks, interrupting, “We’re done.”

Hanamaki nods to them, and the two pups scurry away. Kyoutani stands up as well, eyes watching them carefully before Yahaba forces him to sit back down. “All you’ve done is drink your water,” he hisses.

Kyoutani shakes his head, “I didn’t. Give me some of yours.”

Oikawa claps his hands, “Alright, let’s finish up.” He steps over the Alpha, taking his seat again and picking up his chopsticks, “Back to normal tomorrow, alright? No skipping any more school.”

Kyoutani groans, but shoves the rest of his meal into his mouth all the same.

“Is it okay to leave him here by himself tomorrow?” Hanamaki asks.

“Put him in the basement,” Iwaizumi growls.

“Damn,” Matsukawa murmurs, glancing over toward Ushijima, still on the floor, “You literally pissed off your only ally. Good job, man.”

Ushijima doesn’t deem the comment with a response, merely staring straight ahead.

“What about Kageyama?” Yahaba asks.

“We’ll bring him to our office,” Iwaizumi says, stepping on Oikawa’s foot before he thinks to argue, “It’ll be fine for now.”

“Oh, that reminds me,” Hanamaki mutters, pulling out his phone, “Oikawa, I’ve got a bunch of showings booked for you with the Yamadas.”

Oikawa hums, “Put ‘em on my calendar.”

“Are we checking on 105 Joto, tomorrow?” Iwaizumi asks.

“Yeah, we should swing by to see the progress,” Matsukawa nods.

“Take pictures! I want to see too,” Oikawa sings.

Kyoutani screeches his chair back and stands up, “If we’re putting the intruder in the basement can we do it now? I wanna go.”

“Ever so impatient, KyouKen,” Oikawa sighs, “But fine, let’s go.” He stands up, making a point to look down at the angry Alpha, “Should be easy enough. If he cause any trouble we can just drop him down the stairs and let gravity do the rest.”

Ushijima holds back a growl, but his gold eyes harden to stone.

Oikawa licks his lips as his wide grin splits his face in two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sometimes family is you, your lover, your two best friends, your five adopted children, and the strange man you have chained to the dining room chair
> 
> thanks for joining me on this self indulgent journey. who knows where we're heading. let's all just enjoy the ride. 
> 
> comments fuel me. 
> 
> yell at me on twitter and tumblr @findingschmomo
> 
> until next time


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ushijima looks at him, “What use does the pack have for you?”
> 
> Yahaba turns away to climb up the stairs, calling back over his shoulder, “So I guess this means you’re not hungry?”
> 
> He slams the door shut behind him.

Regardless of the fact they had a prisoner in the house for the foreseeable future, Oikawa and Iwaizumi insisted on normalcy returning to the pack. And so that morning Yahaba finds himself waking up to the early morning rays peaking through his window. He takes his moment of peace to stretch and make his bed, shedding off his pajamas for the school uniform hanging in his closet. 

Once clothed he pads over to Kyoutani’s bedside, rolling his eyes at the mess of blankets twisted around his limbs and the slobber coating his pillow. He pinches a dry corner of the fabric and swiftly yanks the cushion out, successfully forcing Kyoutani’s head to hit the mattress before springing back awake. 

Kyoutani’s pupils are animal slits, snarl coated in the roughness of sleep, catching at the notches in his throats. 

Yahaba has already turned away. “No excuses about not waking up this morning,” he calls as he leaves to go make sure the pups are ready.

The pups are not ready. 

“Kindaichi! Where’s your uniform?” Yahaba sighs, bringing his hands to his hips. Usually the boy is ready and eager for school, but today Yahaba finds him still in his pajama shorts and shirtless.

Kindaichi reddens,“I don’t know.”

“Well, maybe if you didn’t leave your room such a mess you’d be able to find it?” Yahaba points out, and it comes out a bit harsher so early in the morning. Kindaichi wilts, fingers squeezing the elastic band around his hips and staring at the floor. 

Yahaba starts digging through the boy’s closet to keep from feeling guilty. Hanamaki must have done laundry recently and not brought things back up yet because it’s quite bare. Most hangers have fallen haphazardly to the floor, along with other garments that Yahaba can’t tell apart from the dirty and clean. With not much else to go with, he digs through the pile for a shirt, shoving it into Kindaichi’s face, “Is this clean? Smell it.”

Kindaichi takes a big whiff and gives a sheepish nod before grumbling, “But this is for winter, not spring.” Yahaba levels him a look and the boy quickly pulls the shirt over his head without another word. 

Kunimi is dressed and sitting by the bedroom door. Yahaba is thankful he doesn’t have to worry about him too. 

“Your socks?” he asks, and Kindaichi shrugs again, his little ears burning like hot coal. Yahaba takes a deep breath to try to calm his frustrations. He hunts through the closet again but only finds one sock, without its pair. 

“We’ll grab a pair from the laundry room downstairs,” he decides, ushering the pups out of the room. 

Iwaizumi is in the kitchen, staring at the coffee pot on the counter as if his glare could speed up the process. There’s toast on the table and a spread of jam jars. Kyoutani is already eating. Iwaizumi waves at them as the trio enter the kitchen, but is too sleepy to offer much else. Yahaba gives a nod, leaving the pups there to search the laundry room for some socks. 

“Iwaizumi-san can we have water, please!” Kindaichi asks. 

Iwaizumi hums, “No juice?”

“Uh,” Kindaichi hesitates, but then shakes his head, “No, Kunimi wants water. And me too.”

Iwaizumi snorts, pouring them each a cup. 

Yahaba returns and helps Kindaichi put on his socks while the pups eat. The coffee maker dings and Iwaizumi starts grabbing for some mugs, “When do you normally leave?”

“Like, around 7:30.”

“It’s 7:40.”

Yahaba straightens up, grabbing the pups and sending them to the door. Kindaichi had finished his small breakfast, but Kunimi hadn’t been able to touch his yet. He tells the young boy to eat as they walk. 

Kyoutani waits outside while Yahaba helps the pups with their shoes and then they’re _finally_ off. The day had barely begun but Yahaba already feels hot in his uniform, a wet patch of sweat forming on his back where his bag presses against the fabric of his shirt. He shoots Kyoutani a glare. He’d thought the Alpha had turned a new leaf the day before, but he hadn’t done anythingto help all morning. Once they dropped the pups off he was going to let him have it. 

Kyoutani flicks his gaze over and shoves a piece of toast into Yahaba’s mouth. The teen almost chokes, but is able to bite down and grab the other half before it can drop to the dirty sidewalk. 

“You forgot to eat,” Kyoutani huffs. 

Yahaba swallows and does his best to keep his glare, “You could have helped!”

“You didn’t ask.”

“Kindaichi was missing half his uniform,” Yahaba continues, eyes glancing down at the pup. Kindaichi hunches his shoulders up apologetically and speeds up his steps. 

Yahaba sighs, taking another bite of his toast. Kyoutani had even put orange marmalade on it—his favorite. “Thanks.”

Kyoutani doesn’t comment, eyes squinting at the pups in front of him. Although, he’s always squinting, so perhaps he’s just looking past them in thought. Yahaba can’t tell for certain, until his packmate stops in his tracks.

“We should go back,” Kyoutani says.

“What? Did you forget something?”

“No.”

“We’re running late as it is, KyouKen.” Yahaba snaps, “We’re not skipping school.”

“Kunimi’s not okay,” Kyoutani hisses right back. 

Yahaba looks over at the pup, but he looks fine, standing beside Kindaichi, waiting for the teens to keep walking. In fact, the little boy even speaks up to confirm the mental assessment, “I’m fine.” 

Yahaba frowns and gives Kyoutani the benefit of the doubt, crouching down to Kunimi’s level. He reaches a hand out and Kunimi shies away at first before finally letting him touch his forehead. It’s a bit warm. He touches Kindaichi’s to compare.

“He might be getting something,” Yahaba agrees, after a moment.

“I’m _fine_ ,” Kunimi huffs.

“We’re having ice cream today,” Kindaichi whines, his feet starting to get antsy. The longer they stand still, the hotter the morning sun feels on their backs.

“Okay,” Yahaba chuckles standing up. He turns to Kyoutani, “I think he’ll be fine if he says so. If anything he can go to the nurse if it gets worse, right?”

Kunimi nods, keeping his gaze low and his hand in Kindaichi’s. His fingers squeeze tight.

Kyoutani wants to argue, Yahaba can tell, but he doesn’t have time for that. He urges the boys onward and they walk the next few blocks in silence until the elementary school comes into view. Yahaba watches the pups until they enter their building and even then he waits another extra second, just in case. 

Kyoutani is leaving. Yahaba can see him from the corner of his eye. He turns and reaches out his arm, grabbing Kyoutani’s sleeve before he can get any further, “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Let go,” Kyoutani growls, trying to snatch his arm free. 

“School’s the other way,” Yahaba points out. 

“I’m not going.”

Yahaba sighs, letting go, “Why are you such an ass? What do you do all day other than make trouble for us?”

Kyoutani snarls at him and stomps off in the other direction. Yahaba rolls his eyes. He doesn’t have time for this. He’s going to be late. So he doesn’t follow him, he just hurries down the next two streets and slips through the high school gate the moment before they close behind him.

* * *

Oikawa lets out a tired sigh as he shuffles back into the office, laying down on the couch they have in the lobby. He groans, burying his face into the cushion. He lets out another whine, hoping Hanamaki gets the idea. He knows he’s at his desk—he can smell him and hear him clacking away at his keyboard.

Instead, he feels a wet swipe across his hand. He wrenches it back to see Kageyama staring up at him. He growls but the pup doesn’t get the message, trying to hop onto the couch. Oikawa shoves him away and sits up. 

“Makki-chan,” he whines. 

“Yes, dear?” Hanamaki calls back, not looking up from his screen. 

Oikawa huffs, standing up. He slinks over, pressing his body flush against Hanamaki’s back. He rests hisforehead on his shoulder, letting out another whine from deep in his throat. 

Hanamaki sighs and tilts his head up, “What do you need, boss?”

Oikawa turns his face to press against his neck, drinking up the faint scent of creamer and home. His chest rumbles, and he can’t help rubbing his packmate’s neck with his own scent. Hanamaki lets out another sigh, reaching a hand up to scratch at his Alpha’s hair. “Were the Yamada’s _that_ annoying?”

Oikawa sinks into the nearby rolling chair, “Absolutely draining.”

“Still haven’t made a decision?”

“Now they want to try the next town over.”

“I thought location was the one thing they wouldn’t compromise on?”

Oikawa scowls, “Not anymore.”

Hanamaki flicks his gaze back at his screen, “I’ll see what I can find for them later today.”

“Have you eaten?” Oikawa asks, eyes shifting to look over at Hanamaki’s computer. 

“Nope,” a pause as he finishes typing something in, “I’m updating our budget. Give me another five minutes.”

Oikawa hums, leaning back in his chair. Kageyama has trotted over to them, pawing at Oikawa’s shoe. Oikawa nudges the pup away but he seems to confuse the action with playing, pouncing on the appendage and chewing at the fabric of his pant leg. 

Oikawa scoops the boy up before he can do any further damage, letting him sit on his lap and holding him securely. He’s about to scold him too, for good measure, when he remembers. 

“Wait, can you open up another window?”

Hanamaki tilts his head. 

“Look up Ushijima. I think I’ve heard that name before somewhere. Maybe we can figure out his pack.”

“He says he doesn’t have a pack.”

“ _Everyone_ , has a pack at _some point_ ,” Oikawa huffs, “Iwa-chan and I had Kitagawa. Yahaba-chan had Chidoriyama.”

“What about Kunimi and Kindaichi?” Hanamaki reminds.

Oikawa blows air through his nose, waving him off, “Just type it in the search engine already.”

Hanamaki does so without further grief, scrolling down the page. Oikawa squints his eyes, leaning forward as he reads through the results. He motions for Hanamaki to click on _maps_. Once it pulls up and dots start appearing, Oikawa’s eyes widen. 

“Shit,” he mutters, turning the monitor to remove any possible glare. Kageyama nuzzles into his stomach, and Oikawa pets his head to calm the pup down. 

“What?” Hanamaki asks. 

Oikawa brings his free hand up, using his index finger to trace an invisible line around the majority of the dots. He frowns, “This is all basically in Shiratorizawa territory.”

“Really?” Hanamaki straightens up, opening up a new tab to pull up their territory map that he and Matsukawa had been working on for the past few years. He sets them up side by side, “Holy shit.”

“There’s a lot of Ushijima’s there, too,” Oikawa muses, settling back down. He scratches Kageyama behind the ear as he thinks, “His family must be important to the pack if there are so many of them.”

“Let me see if I can find Kageyama in this directory,” Hanamaki mutters, searching up the pups name now. Unfortunately, nothing populates. 

Oikawa frowns, lifting up the pup to stare at his face, “Why are you such a mystery?” 

Kageyama licks his nose and Oikawa scowls, handing the little beast over to Hanamaki. Hanamaki puts him down on the floor. “So he has ties to Shiratorizawa. That explains his... _traditional_ values,” he says. 

Oikawa rubs the corner of his eye, “Shiratorizawa is a massive and wealthy pack. Shifters don’t just leave that pack. Everyone’s put to use.” He taps his fingers on the desk, pursing his lips, “He could have just gone rogue, but he might have been exiled?”

“Maybe he was tired of all the rules.”

“He seems pretty into them,” Oikawa huffs.

Kageyama barks. Oikawa rolls his eyes, but it distract him enough to remind him, “I’m hungry, let’s go.”

“Aye, aye captain,” Hanamaki hums before shutting the computer monitor off.

* * *

“—and then Sakamichi dropped his popsicle and had to clean it up and it was really funny. And then at recess I played cops and robbers, and no one ever caught me because I’m faster than all of them. And then Minami-sensei gave us a quiz on multiplications and I think I did okay.”

Yahaba nods, half absorbing the deluge of information Kindaichi is prattling off to him. He looks down at Kunimi, trudging along silently beside him, eyes glued to the sidewalk. 

“Kunimi, how was your day?”

“Okay,” he says. 

“Are you feeling okay?”

Kunimi shrugs. 

“Kunimi fell asleep during math again,” Kindaichi says. 

“It’s boring.”

“But you also fell asleep during recess! Recess is never boring.”

Kunimi glowers. 

Yahaba frowns, “Did you sleep last night?”

“Yeah,” Kunimi replies, hunching up his shoulders, “I’m fine.”

Kindaichi bites his lip, like he wants to say more, but Kunimi speeds up his steps in a way to end the conversation. Yahaba logs the info into the back of his head, mindful to let Iwaizumi and Oikawa know once they’re back from work. 

When they reach their home, Kindaichi kicks his shoes off immediately. Yahaba reminds him to treat his things kindly and Kindaichi quickly hurries to retrieve his shoes and set them up neatly by the door. Kunimi is having difficulty prying his own shoes off, enough so that he lets out a frustrated little breath. Yahaba bends down with a sigh to help him, “You know, you should be able to do this on your own, Kunimi.”

Yahaba freezes, at the sight of tiny tears pricking at the corners of Kunimi’s reddened face, “Kuni--”

Kunimi shakes his head, stumbling up to run off to his room. Kindaichi’s eyes widen, scurrying to follow his best friend up the steps. 

Yahaba rubs the bridge of his nose. He hadn’t meant to come off so harsh. He was just, stressed, frustrated, annoyed. And they _were_ ten years old now. They should be fine at taking off their own shoes.

He debates whether or not to go apologize, before deciding to let the pup settle down first. Instead, he ventures down to the basement to check on the stranger. 

Ushijima looks up from the magazine in his hands. He’s lounging on top of the bare mattress settled in the middle of the room. He has his bandaged foot elevated on a cushion, and a thick black collar around his neck chaining him to the wall. The lead on it is enough for him to be able to use the bathroom nearby, but not enough to reach the stairs. Yahaba keeps close to the banister. 

“Are you hungry?” he asks, tracing a finger along the railing. 

Ushijima squints, “Is Iwaizumi here?” 

“No?”

“I smell...” Ushijima frowns, looking up at the ceiling. 

Yahaba shrugs. 

“Do you not smell that?” Ushijima insists, sitting up. 

“Smell what? Iwaizumi-san?” Yahaba tilts his head. He shrugs, “I can’t smell anything.”

“Even Betas can smell _some_ things--”

“I can’t smell,” Yahaba repeats, “Anything.”

It takes a moment for the statement to truly settle on Ushijima, his eyes widening fractionally. Yahaba keeps his gaze, refusing to show any kind of vulnerability. He’s had his whole life to practice the look. 

“How have you survived so long?” Ushijima asks.

“I’m perfectly fine without it,” Yahaba replies, “Humans don’t need a sense of smell to live.” 

Ushijima shakes his head, “But you’re a _shifter_ , I doubt you would ever be able to survive on your own. You would not be able to hunt. You would not be able to protect yourself. You would not be able to detect anything at all.”

Yahaba forces on a smile, “Well good thing I’m _not_ alone, huh?”

“What use does the pack have for you?”

Yahaba turns away to climb up the stairs, calling back over his shoulder, “So I guess this means you’re _not_ hungry?”

He slams the door shut behind him. 

He rubs his temple, trying to expunge the conversation from his mind so it doesn’t weigh against his shoulders and permeate his nightmares. He has enough of those without any help. He startles when the door opens, hackles raising until he can see Kyoutani stepping through the doorway, a paper bag in his arms. 

Yahaba isn’t in the mood, “Where have you been?”

Kyoutani ignores him, sniffing at the air. He frowns, setting the bag down on the counter and looking toward the stairs, “Where are they?”

“The pups?” Yahaba asks, “Upstairs. Look, can you at least help me make them a snack? Kunimi’s upset and they’re gonna get fussy without anything to eat before dinner.”

“He’s upset?” Kyoutani repeats, distracted. He leaves Yahaba entirely to hurry up the steps. Yahaba won’t stand for it, rushing right after him. 

“Stop ignoring me!” he snaps when he finally catches up. Kyoutani continues to do so, however and opens the door to the pups bedroom. Kyoutani flinches, and Yahaba pushes past him to see that the entire room is in disarray, yet again. 

Kindaichi’s clothes are strewn everywhere, Kindaichi himself looking sheepishly at the intruders. Yahaba is ready to pop a vein, “Kindaich! What did I say about this mess!?”

Kindaichi reddens, shaking his head, “It wasn’t. It wasn’t me!”

Yahaba rolls his eyes. Kyoutani enters the room, padding carefully toward the mound of Kindaichi’s clothes shoved into the corner of the room. He crouches, digging through the fabric. Not only does he ignore Yahaba’s exasperated comments, but also Kindaichi’s calls of, “Don’t! Stop it!” and finally, “Leave him alone!”

Kyoutani doesn’t take any notice until he finally reveals Kunimi’s red, tear stained face from within the clothing pile. Something shifts in the air. Even Yahaba shuts up. He can’t smell anything, but he can see Kindaichi’s pupils narrow into slits, and a growl burble from the back of his throat. 

Kyoutani’s eyes mirror the pups’ sending back his own warning snarl. 

And then Kunimi _whines_.

Kyoutani swallows, “He’s going into heat.”

“What?” Yahaba blinks, face paling as he takes a step back, “Are you serious?”

“Tell Iwaizumi-san,” Kyoutani orders, kneeling down more comfortably. Yahaba can see that Kunimi is clinging to his arm, face buried into the crook of Kyoutani’s elbow. Kyoutani has a hand in his hair. “Get Kindaichi out.”

Kindaichi growls again and Yahaba is quick to grab the angry pup’s arm before he claws at Kyoutani, “What about you?”

“I’ll stay with him until Iwaizumi-san gets here.”

Yahaba hesitates, “Isn’t that...Isn’t that bad?”

Kyoutani glares at him, “Do you know anything?”

Kindaichi lets out a frustrated yowl, scratching at Yahaba’s arm. Luckily the boy hasn’t thought to shift yet, so he’s harmless. Yahaba doesn’t react to it at all. 

Kyoutani does, however, sending the pup a fierce glare which succeeds in quieting him down for a second. And then he shouts, “Get out, Yahaba!”

Yahaba swallows and shuffles out, closing the door and dragging Kindaichi away. The pup struggles, legs kicking and arms flailing. There’s a rage in his eyes that Yahaba has never seen in him. The pup even tries to _bite_ him before Yahaba is able to sit him down at the kitchen table.

It takes Kindaichi a few more seconds to find his words in his muddled mind, “He’s not feeling well!” The pup’s pupils begin to dilate to a normal size now that he’s out of the pheromone filled room. Yahaba doesn’t want to risk it, however, and starts opening up the windows to get more fresh air circulating. 

“Exactly,” Yahaba responds. “You don’t want to get sick too right?” he lies, sitting back down across from the boy and pulling out his phone, “It’s best if you stay away.”

Kindaichi doesn’t look convinced, but the breeze seems to be helping him. Yahaba has no way of gaging it. So he does the one thing he can be useful for, and dials a number. 

It feels like forever before Iwaizumi picks up.

* * *

Iwaizumi flings the door open, tripping over shoes as he hurries into the kitchen. Yahaba is sitting there with Kindaichi, who’s anxiety is rolling off him in waves. But that’s not enough to overpower the growing sacharine scent from above.

“Upstairs?” he asks, even though he doesn’t need to. He can hear Oikawa coming in the door behind him now. He must have finished parking their car. 

“Yeah,” Yahaba says, standing up, “Uh, Kyoutani’s with him?”

Oikawa blinks, appearing in the doorway as predicted, “He is?” 

Iwaizumi doesn’t answer, just hurries up the steps by taking them two at a time. Oikawa moves to follow, only pausing to glance at the pharmacy bag on the table. He peaks into it before taking the bag entirely. Yahaba hesitates but decides to climb up the stairs too, curiosity overtaking him.

When he enters the pups’ room he finds Kyoutani sitting on the floor, his back against the wall. Kunimi is curled up against him, burying his face into his chest. They’re surrounded by piles of clothes. Kyoutani lets out a growl at the sight of them before shutting himself up. 

Oikawa actually _smiles_. 

Yahaba doesn’t get it. Why reward Kyoutani’s shitty territorial behavior? Now of all times?

Iwaizumi pads in, taking a careful seat beside Kyoutani, “Hey Kunimi,” he murmurs quietly. 

Kunimi lifts his reddened head, his hair plastered wetly to his face. He looks miserable. Snot dripping from his nose and tears pouring from his eyes. Iwaizumi smooths a strand behind his ear, “Does your stomach hurt?”

Kunimi nods, and he can’t even talk. He just lets out a pitiful whine instead. 

Oikawa crouches in front of the pup. “Is big brother KyouKen taking good care of you?” he asks, holding his fist for the young boy to smell before he nuzzles into it. 

Kyoutani grimaces, but he doesn’t move, not with Kunimi still clinging so tightly to him. 

“Tooru,” Iwaizumi whispers, continuing to stroke the top of Kunimi’s head, “Can you grab some ibuprofen from our bathroom? And we’ll need to get him a heat pad and cold compress at some point.”

Oikawa hands him the pharmacy bag, “Read your mind.”

Iwaizumi blinks, taking the bag, “You got these already?”

Oikawa grins, “I wish I could say so. But no, I guess KyouKen and Yahaba must have gotten them.”

Kyoutani reddens, looking away and gritting his teeth. 

Yahaba steps out of the room entirely. 

Oikawa keeps up his smile, unfisting his hand so he can wipe away at Kunimi’s tears. Kyoutani can’t help the growl rumbling in the back of his throat, nor the way his eyes track Oikawa’s every move. Oikawa isn’t impressed.

“Alright,” Iwaizumi cuts in, easily reaching through the tense air, “Kyoutani, thank you for helping, but I think it’s time to leave this to me.”

Kyoutani seems to hesitate, keeping Kunimi close. Oikawa can’t blame him. It’s innate for any Alpha to want to protect an Omega in distress, only more amplified when said Omega is a pup in your pack. 

Iwaizumi understands this too, leaning forward to press his forehead against the teen’s, ripping from Kyoutani an involuntary whimper, unbefitting an Alpha his age. It seems to bring him back to reality, and he quickly gives Kunimi over to Iwaizumi. Kunimi lets out a whine, but seems content to nuzzle into Iwaizumi’s neck once he finds it. 

Kyoutani gets up, feet staggering slightly. Oikawa steadies him before he falls and Kyoutani is too shocked by how much the scent in the air is effecting him to complain. 

“Get us some water, Tooru,” Iwaizumi orders. 

Oikawa salutes, urging Kyoutani out of the room with a tug of his shirtsleeve. He leads the teen out and closes the door. Kyoutani stares at the door. Oikawa tugs him in for a hug. It takes Kyoutani a moment to realize whats happening before he shoves the older Alpha away from him with an overdue snarl. 

Oikawa just smirks, “You’ve been such a good Alpha today, KyouKen,” he praises, “Taking care of the pack while I was away.”

Kyoutani flames up and turns away to stalk down the stairs, hackles raised and ears burning. Oikawa giggles, sauntering after him to the kitchen to fill a couple of bottles with ice cold water. 

“KyouKen-chan,” Oikawa calls, preventing the teen from going into their backyard. Kyoutani wants to ignore him, but he looks back anyway. Oikawa’s eyes are steely, and there’s something in his gaze that makes Kyoutani’s shoulders relax. Oikawa’s scent isn’t strong, but he has an aura about him in this moment, where it doesn’t seem to matter. 

With just this look, Kyoutani knows _everything’s going to be okay_ , without even realizing he was worried to begin with. His stomach flips and he looks down at the ground, like a small little pup. Oikawa doesn’t tease him for it, instead he takes his gaze off him to focus on the water bottles. He leaves him with two words, “Thank you.”

Kyoutani gnaws at his lip, legs getting antsy as his mind starts to whir. He’s unable to truly process it all. He needs fresh air. Upstairs smells too enticingly sweet, and the kitchen is a mix of frustrated Alpha—Oikawa’s and his own, but mostly Kindaichi.

Kindaichi. 

Kyoutani looks around to find the pup isn’t in the kitchen, or the laundry room, or the family room. His smell is strong though. He hasn’t left the house, and it’s with growing anger he realizes tha the scent is emanating from the basement door. 

But before he can storm down he realizes another thing.

Yahaba’s gone too.

And his scent is nowhere to be found.

* * *

Oikawa steps into the sticky sweet room, cradling four bottles of ice water and a packet of chocolate he’d dug up from the pantry. Iwaizumi has Kunimi laying down with his head in his lap, combing through his sweaty locks.

“How is he?” Oikawa asks softly, sinking down to the floor as well. 

“It hurts,” Kunimi mumbles, burying his face into the fabric of Iwaizumi’s pants. 

“You’re so strong, Kunimi-chan,” Oikawa says taking a seat next to him, “When Iwa-chan got his first heat he was older than you, and he couldn’t even talk! All he did was cry.”

Iwaizumi sends him a glare.

Kunimi sits up a bit, emboldened by the words and the offering of water, “Really?” he asks, before taking a desperate sip. 

“Oh yeah, all he could do was cry and cling to me.”

“Oikawa,” Iwaizumi snaps.

Kunimi takes a moment to quickly gulp down half the bottle, “Oikawa-san smells really good so it makes sense.”

“Do I?” Oikawa asks with a raised eyebrow.

Kunimi nods, sniffling a bit and wiping his nose with the back of his hand, “Everyone smells really good. Kyoutani and Kindaichi, too. So much it gives me a headache.

Oikawa laughs. Kunimi tries to give a smile but he ends up mostly with a grimace, doubling forward to let out another pained noise. Iwaizumi rubs his back, easing him back down. 

“Tooru,” Iwaizumi says, voice steady but quiet. Oikawa looks at him, eyes open and waiting. “Can you set up our tent?”

Oikawa blinks, “Are you sure? Why?”

“There are too many Alphas in the house.”

Oikawa bites his lip, “I can take them out. We can go to a hotel.”

Iwaizumi shakes his head, “I want you near. Plus, I think this will be easier if we’re in shift.”

Oikawa seems hesitant, fingers drumming on the floorboards beneath him. “Are you sure?”

“You think I don’t know the best way to handle heats?”

Oikawa huffs, “I’ll have Kyoutani and Yahaba set it up then.” He gets up, but he doesn’t get far, when Kunimi holds tightly to his sleeve. He smiles, turning back to look at him, only to see it’s Iwaizumi holding him back. He tilts his head. 

Iwaizumi blinks, unlatching his hand from the fabric with more effort than should be necessary. 

“Are you alright?” Oikawa asks carefully. 

Iwaizumi is still looking at his hand, giving a distracted nod, “Yeah.”

Oikawa isn’t convinced, but he knows he shouldn’t overstay his welcome in a room with an Omega in heat, regardless of his status in the pack. Iwaizumi can be fierce, and he has no qualms reminding Oikawa of that. Still, he adds just in case, “I’m downstairs if you need me.”

Iwaizumi doesn’t respond, focusing more on running soothing circles against Kunimi’s shuddering back. 

* * *

Kindaichi freezes when he hears footsteps coming back down from upstairs. Yahaba-san, Oikawa-san and Kyoutani-san had all run up just a few minutes ago and he wasn’t expecting them to return so fast. He had just kicked over one of the kitchen chairs, ready to topple over another.

He isn’t angry. He doesn’t know what he is. Worried. Sad. Unhappy. He hates seeing Kunimi cry. He hates it more than anything. Kunimi is his best friend, and his best friend had been holding back tears for the past week. 

And he couldn’t help.

And now he wasn’t even allowed to be in the room! What if Kunimi needed his socks? 

At the sound of footsteps he ducks away to hide from the obvious yelling he’ll receive for knocking furniture down. He crouches by the doorway to the basement, fingers digging into the wood. 

Yahaba-san comes down and walks right past him. He doesn’t even notice the kitchen in disarray and Yahaba _always_ notices messes. Kindaichi watches as the teen keeps walking, prying open the sliding back door and slamming it shut—too hard to actually shut it; it just bounces a quarter inch back. 

Kindaichi frowns, and the anxiety squirming in his stomach makes him want to claw at the wood beneath his nails. He wants to shift. He _really_ wants to shift. Because the world makes more sense when he’s a wolf. It’s simpler. And he can run. He can run real fast as a wolf. 

“So shift.”

Kindaichi jumps at the disembodied voice, turning to look into the dark void of the stairwell. He is met with silence.

He summons as much courage as he can and crawls his way down to the cold cement basement floor. It feels like icicles prickling at his bare feet. 

Ushijima-san is sitting on his bed looking at him. Kindaichi holds the banister railing tightly.

“If you want to shift,” the older wolf states, “Then do so.”

Kindaichi shakes his head, “Oikawa-san says not to shift in the house. It hurts the floors.”

Ushijima snorts, “You’re wolves. What of it?”

“He just redid them,” Kindaichi mutters, squeezing and unsqueezing his hands into tight little fists. 

Ushijima looks down at the floor, “I see no wood flooring here.”

Kindaichi purses his lips, “Are you going to tell on me?”

Ushijima shrugs. 

Kindaichi frowns. 

He decides to sit down on the steps. He balances his elbows on his knees, perching his chin upon the palms of his hands, “Why didn’t you look both ways?”

Ushijima blinks at him, “Excuse me?”

Kindaichi scrunches his nose, “You got hit by a car so you must not have looked both ways. That’s the first rule. Are you dumb? Is this why Kageyama is dumb too?”

“I am not dumb. Kageyama is fine.”

“He can’t read,” Kindaichi points out, “That makes him dumb.”

“It does not.”

“Can you read?”

“Of course I am able to read.”

“So why can’t Kageyama? Because he’s dumb.”

“Omegas don’t _need_ to read,” Ushijima snaps, annoyance fluttering, “You ask too many questions.”

“Kunimi can read. Kunimi is really smart. He’s not feeling well right now, though.”

“Yes, I’ve smelled.” Ushijima picks up his magazine again, but he pauses to ask, “Are you and your brother Iwaizumi’s pups?”

Kindaichi tilts his head, “I dont have a brother.”

Ushijima pinches the bridge of his nose, “Right, well, are either you or Kunimi Iwaizumi’s pups?”

“Are you asking if Iwaizumi-san’s my mom?” Kindaichi asks. “He’s not. Matsukawa-san found us after the fire.”

“The fire?”

“Kin-chan!” 

The pair look up to see Oikawa, rushing down the steps to grab the pup’s arm and pull him back, “What did I say about coming down here?”

“I’m sorry,” Kindaichi quickly apologizes, ducking his head down. 

“Why isnt Yahaba with you?” Oikawa asks, looking around while pointedly refusing to rest his eyes on their prisoner. 

“He left,” Kindaichi says, “He left a while ago.”

“He left?” Oikawa repeats.

“He’s gone!” Kyoutani echoes from above them.

He’s gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i had a tough time writing this chapter. i rewrote it a bunch of times and i'm still unhappy with it. but i just couldnt look at it anymore so here you go. 
> 
> see you next time


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oikawa Tooru is the weirdest Alpha Kyoutani has ever met, and the only one to ever make him feel real fear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: the last bit of this chapter could be interpreted to be dub/con and may make some readers uncomfortable. please read ahead with caution

Kyoutani doesn’t wait for orders, the moment he realizes Yahaba has left the house he finds himself sprinting out the door.

If this were any other day, Yahaba leaving wouldn’t be cause for any alarm. Kyoutani doesn’t know why he’s so panicked. It might be his heightened senses from Kunimi’s heat. It might be the presence of the foreign Alpha’s scent, casting a dark shadow on the entire home. Or maybe it’s Yahaba’s recent frustrations with him.

Regardless he feels the need to find him. He has to find him. He has to bring him back to the pack. He needs to know, more than anything else in this moment, that his pack is safe and in order to do that he needs everyone accounted for. 

_ His pack _ .

His own thoughts stop him, coloring his face at the absurdity of the statement. They’re not  _ his _ pack. They’re not even a pack at all, no matter what Yahaba and the older shifters say. A pack is a family, and a family is blood, and not a single being in that house has shared veins. 

They were an assortment of shifters Oikawa had collected, willingly or not. Kyoutani only being the most recent addition. 

He had been reluctant to join. Had absolutely no interest in joining. He’d left his own pack after his mother had passed. He’d only been close to her, and without her there wasn’t much tying him down there. Most adolescent Alpha’s leave to strike out on their own once they have their first rut, anyway. 

So what if Kyoutani left a bit earlier than that?

The only reason he started loitering near the Seijoh group was because of Iwaizumi.

Iwaizumi is formidable. Handsome. Strong. Powerful. He has a gravitas around him that can’t help but attract others. Like a planet calling asteroids to be its moons.

The minute Kyoutani saw him he knew he had to fight him. 

Of course, this was  _ before _ he knew Iwaizumi was an Omega. The revelation hit him like a like a meteorite from the sky and suddenly he didn’t want to fight Iwaizumi, he wanted to  _ have _ Iwaizumi. At his side. He wanted to serve Iwaizumi. Protect Iwaizumi. Love Iwaizumi.

Iwaizumi was already spoken for. 

Oikawa Tooru is the weirdest Alpha Kyoutani has ever met, and the only one to ever make him feel real fear. 

Oikawa gets under one’s skin. He pokes at insecurities one doesn’t even know they harbor. He uses his words rather than his claws. But it’s his trust, his  _ absolute trust _ , that really frightens Kyoutani. 

If there is anything that unites all Alphas, it is their understanding of the precariousness of their power. They have to always be on guard. Who knew what other Alpha could come and try to take their pack, their Omegas, their pups. They always need to be stronger to keep their pack in line and under their control. 

Or at least, that’s what Kyoutani had always thought. 

But Oikawa is a sad excuse for a traditional Alpha. He lazes about, he whines, he complains. And yet, underneath the bratty veneer lies a strong foundation of  _ trust _ . Of faith that the people he’d brought in would never betray him or each other. 

And most of all, an absolute trust in Iwaizumi Hajime.

Kyoutani had never seen a pack couple like that. A pack couple who maintained equal footing. An Alpha who conceded so much control. An Omega who criticized so openly. Not in shifter society at least. 

When Kyoutani first arrived, he challenged Oikawa to a fight in order to vye for his land and his mate. Oikawa had laughed at him. Had said the lease was in his and Iwaizumi’s name, and Japanese law didn’t acknowledge pack claims. 

Kyoutani insisted on a fight and Oikawa turned him down every time in different nonsensical ways. Until, finally, Iwaizumi offered to arm wrestle him to  _ shut the both of them up. _

And then Kyoutani had lost. 

Instead of being cast out in shame at losing-- _ losing to an Omega, of all things _ \--Matsukawa had passed him a spoonful of rice. And it was only then that it finally sunk in he had been living in their home for the past few weeks. That he’d been well fed. That he didn’t want to leave.

It was Oikawa who gave him a key to the place. It was Hanamaki who helped organize his few belongings into his new drawers. It was Matsukawa and Iwaizumi who had carried a bed into Yahaba’s room for him to sleep on. 

Yahaba. 

_ Yahaba _ ,  _ where the fuck are you? _

Kyoutani grits his teeth, doing his best  _ not _ to shift no matter how much easier it would be. He’s still in their neighborhood, following the faint scent of cream and basil, and it’s bright out. There’s no way he could shift without being noticed by their many human neighbors. 

But if he was a wolf right now he would be faster, he’d smell farther, he’d find him. He has to find him. 

_ Why _ does he have to find him?

Kyoutani almost trips when he skids to a sudden halt. His hands shoot out to brace himself but he’s able to stay standing. He lets out a few ragged breaths, wiping the sweat from his brow and staring at the cement sidewalk. 

Why was he freaking out again?

Yahaba had stepped out. That’s all. It wasn’t like he wasn't allowed to leave the house. It wasn’t like it was the middle of the night. There was no reason to be so freaked out. 

But Kyoutani’s heart doesn’t stop hammering in his chest. And his mind fills with irrational fear after irrational fear. And he can’t figure out where the hole in his brain is that all these thoughts are leaking out of. 

All he knows is that _Yahaba_ _is gone_ and that’s bad because _Yahaba is his_ and if he doesn’t know where Yahaba is, how does he know he’s _safe_. 

He has to keep his Yahaba safe. 

Kyoutani digs his blunt fingernails into his hair to drive some sense into him. Yahaba isn’t  _ his _ . If anything, he’s  _ Oikawa’s _ . 

  
He can’t help but growl. 

He shakes his head again. No, Yahaba is his own person. Oikawa has made that clear. That they are  _ all _ their own person. 

His mind feels so foggy. Is it because of Kunimi? He needs to keep Kunimi safe, and maybe now that strong need has transferred to the missing Yahaba? But Yahaba isn’t an Omega in heat, he’s just a plain old Beta. Why should he care so much?

He wants to claw at something. At a tree, at the ground, at the prisoner in their basement. At anything or anyone, to expel all this toxic energy bashing against the sides of his skull. 

The smart thing to do would be to go back home and wait for Yahaba to come back. 

Kyoutani isn’t very smart. He hasn’t gone to school for longer than three days in over five years. 

He starts running again. 

* * *

Oikawa groans when he hears the door slam shut, bringing a hand up to squeeze the bridge of his nose. Matsun and Makki are at work. Kunimi’s in heat. Yahaba is missing. Kyoutani has run off. 

He bites the inside of his cheek and tries to breath out his frustrations through his nose. He can’t run after Kyoutani now. There’s no way he’s leaving the pups and Iwaizumi alone with the Alpha, especially when Iwaizumi is busy keeping Kunimi’s spirits up. 

“It seems you have lost control,” Ushijima remarks breaking him out of his thoughts.

Oikawa feels the vein in his head start to throb. He slides his squeezing fingers down his nose, letting his palm smear down the skin of his chin before having his arm swing at his side. He stares squarely at the prisoner, “I haven’t lost anything.”

“I believe your Beta is objectively lost at the moment.”

Oikawa grits his teeth behind his closed lips. Ushijima doesn’t read the subtlety, instead, stomping right through the pause in conversation, “This is for the best. If they run they are not needed.”

Oikawa squints at him, and he feels poison coat his tongue. He cranes his neck back, like a cobra flaring its hood, spitting out, “Is that why you were cast out of Shiratorizawa? You were no longer needed?”

Ushijima falls silent, a thick,  _ angry _ , kind of silence. It makes the stuffy basement air sour, and has Kindaichi clinging tightly to the banister. Oikawa revels in it, smile growing, “Oh, I’m sorry, did I hit a nerve?”

Ushijima sits up but in doing so pulls on the shackle attached to his collar. He bares his teeth at it instinctively and Oikawa can’t help the chuckle that springs from his mouth. 

“You are a coward,” Ushijima snarls, “Untie me if you want to tarnish my family’s name. Face the consequences of your disrespectful words.”

Oikawa hums, “So it sounds like you were in the Shiratorizawa inner sanctum. How’d you get so far removed? Don’t they keep the bloodline close?”

Ushijima growls, “You know nothing of our customs. You are a crazed savage clinging to the outskirts of human society as a shield.”

“I know enough to know that Shiratoirizawa must have done something heinous,” Oikawa continues, stalking closer, emboldened by Ushijima’s raw pride, “Something that would make even one of their Alphan heirs run off into the night with a stranger’s pup.”

Ushijima’s skin ripples muscles stretching and bones breaking as he shifts. His hair grows and he snarls, monstrous from his ribcage. Oikawa does not back down. He shifts too, leaping down completely from the stairs in an elegant arc, landing on four sturdy paws.

He pads around the dirty mattress, aware of the radius of movement Ushijima is allowed from his chain. He circles him teasingly, swishing his tail back and forth as he continues, “So maybe  _ you _ are the coward, here, my dearest Ushiwaka.”

“Your pride will be the end of you. You take in pathetic wolves into your fold who have no respect for you. And even now you hide behind the length of this chain because you know you would be bested by me. It is no wonder even the impaired run from your care.”

Oikawa’s pace halts. His claws clack against the cement floor and his brown eyes kindle fire, “Impaired?” he repeats, the word sticky like tar in his mouth, he’s unable to get it out except with forceful spit. 

“For someone who runs their mouth more than their legs, you have a limited vocabulary.” Ushijima snaps, clawing at the mattress under his feet, “I am speaking of the poor shifter without a nose. He might as well be blind.”

“Leave Yahaba out of this.” Oikawa hisses.

“Maybe his departure will open your eyes to the burden he is. You are stronger without him. You should have put him out of his misery.”

Ushijima howls, as teeth bury deep into his side, Oikawa’s claws kicking at his black fur. He wrenches back, using his greater weight to shove Oikawa off. The brown wolf licks his blood stained lips and snarls. Ushijima meets his glare. He is unable to pounce, not with the chain around his neck, but he can defend, and he can fight back. 

Oikawa lunges with his own howl. 

Ushijima hears a high pitched yip and the scurry of feet on the stairs. His ears quickly pivot back to Oikawa, sinking down so Oikawa leaps over him. He turns his head, letting the chain smack the back of Oikawa’s head. 

Oikawa snarls, swiping wide and having his claw catch on Ushijima’s loosened bandages, revealing his healing wound. Ushijima tries to retract it protectively, but not before Oikawa manages to grab it with his teeth and yank him  _ down. _

Ushijima  _ keens _ , a pitiful noise coming from a wolf his size. But the sheer hot pain of teeth in his fractured leg is enough to make him dizzy. He feels Oikawa’s weight on top of him, snarling and furious. His claws rake at his flank, and Ushijima’s own blood drips onto his face from Oikawa’s muzzle. 

Ushijima tries to snap at him, mouth gaping and angry, but Oikawa is quicker. He has the upper hand, and half of Ushijima’s mind is stuck on the white hot pain of his leg rather than on the fight itself. 

Oikawa snaps his jaws around his neck and Ushijima squeezes his eyes shut in preparation. But the crack of his spine never comes, and instead he hears the loud ringing of Oikawa’s teeth knocking against his metal collar. 

Oikawa is  _ furious _ . 

He jumps back, whole form trembling in violent energy with no outlet to expend it.

Ushijima is able to sit up, chest heaving and  _ invigorated _ , for he had just looked death in the eye and lived to tell the tale. He feels  _ alive _ . The pain of his wounded leg is but adrenaline now coursing through his system. 

He can feel his excitement envelop him and spread throughout the room. The animalistic pleasure of survival. The feral part of his brain won over with the scent of blood, pheromone and sweat. 

Oikawa’s chest is heaving, and his brown fur is matted darker around his muzzle. It brings starkness to his brown eyes. It lights up the white fur peeking from his soft belly, that match his elegant long paws. 

Ushijima is struck again by how  _ beautiful _ Oikawa Tooru really is. 

There’s a crazed look in Oikawa’s eyes too. The fire is still alight, but the steam has nowhere to go other than through his heavy breaths. 

It’s getting harder to breath. 

The basement door is closed. 

The air is  _ hot _ . 

Ushijima’s ears flick back and his tongue peaks out to pant. Oikawa takes a step closer, eyes narrowing.  

Ushijima can smell Oikawa now, only faintly, but still there. And he smells,  _ delicious _ . 

Oikawa shakes his head, fur rippling back and forth as if trying to clear his mind. But it’s impossible in this room. It is too warm. It is too  _ exciting.  _ It is too much. And despite both of them being Alphas, one will have to give in. 

Oikawa keens, a loud and needy sound. 

Except he doesn’t. 

To Ushijima’s own horror, he’s realized the pitiful sound was ripped from his own throat. He can see it in the reflection of Oikawa’s hungry wide eyes. Can see it in the way he, Ushijima Wakatoshi, has suddenly pitched forward, and it’s  _ unfathomable _ , and yet here he is, at Oikawa’s feet.

Oikawa lunges for him.

* * *

There is a river a mile out from the Seijoh homestead. When the pack shifts together, they usually do so out here, on the outskirts of town, where the river meets the woods, and prying eyes are far and few between.

Yahaba had found the river when he had been left alone. The river was loud, roaring in his little ears, and he’d followed it hoping to find his parents again. He’d been a young pup then, timid in his shift for the first time. The world was foreign, and it did not make sense, and his family was gone. 

But the river was there. No matter how far he strayed, he could hear it rattle his ribs. A steady thrum, a heartbeat in the unknown. He didn’t know how long he followed the river. He only knew he followed it all the way to Oikawa’s safe arms. 

That was years ago. Eons ago. Yahaba isn’t a pup anymore. He hasn’t shifted in a long time. But here he is, by the river, listening to the rush of water and wondering, not for the first time, if he was supposed to have been swept away long ago. 

He lays down on the river’s edge, closing his eyes to feel the spray of water on his skin, the cool breeze on his fringe, and the slap of water on rocks. It’s loud here, by the edge. So loud it drowns out all his worries. His thoughts. His failings. 

He should have known better. 

He should have listened to Kyoutani.

As much as it pains him to admit it, Kyoutani is more equipped to know the wolf sides of his packmates, of their needs and statuses. And he should have listened. He had been stupid. Useless. He  _ endangered _ Kunimi. 

He’s unforgivable. 

He’s useless.

No matter how much he tries to compensate, no matter how often Oikawa tauts of his supposed other talents, nothing hides the fact that he is less than unremarkable. He is useless.

He hears a howl in the distance. 

He perks up, recognizing the sound as something familiar. A packmate. A loved one. Not an enemy to be wary of. He lifts his head to see a blonde wolf, black streaks around his muzzle, staring fiercely at him from the other side of the river bank. 

Yahaba sighs, “Hey, KyouKen.”

The wolf wastes no time jumping into the water to swim toward him, powerful legs easily carrying him despite the rush of water. He lifts himself up onto dry land and shakes, droplets sprinkling all over Yahaba. He squawks. 

Kyoutani doesn’t give him any more time before he jumps him, bowling him over with his entire body. A laugh is ripped out of Yahaba, hands coming up to grip the wet fur in order to keep his balance.

“KyouKen! Stop! You’re  _ soaked! _ ”

Kyoutani does not stop. He rubs against him, noises desperate and upset as he presses his face to Yahaba’s neck and licks his cheek. 

“What’s gotten into you?” Yahaba murmurs, pushing the excited canine away from his face, “What’s wrong?”

Kyoutani is still a wolf, and Yahaba wishes he’d shift back already so they could have a proper conversation. Although, then he would be wet and naked and would most likely catch a cold, so maybe it’s for the best he remains a dog for the time being. 

Yahaba should shift instead.

Yahaba does not want to shift. 

“I guess we have to go home, then,” he mutters.

Kyoutani licks his face.

Yahaba sighs.

Then Kyoutani dips his head down lower, licking at his neck, making Yahaba cringe up his shoulders, “Stop it,” he hisses, “Are you trying to scent mark me?”

Kyoutani seems emboldened by the remark, pushing his paw firmly on Yahaba’s chest to give him the leverage to rub his face into his neck. 

“KyouKen,” Yahaba huffs, trying to push him away, “Oikawa-san will get mad.”

Kyoutani actually growls, and Yahaba decides that’s enough and stands up. He doesn’t want to encourage any of this Alpha nonsense. He’s tired of the world trying to dictate his life through pheromones he can’t even sense.

“Come on, let’s go find your clothes and go home.”

* * *

“Iwaizumi-san!”

Iwaizumi looks up from where he’s crouched with Kunimi, examining the structure of the boy’s first nest. He’d been filled with pride at how well Kunimi had done without knowing what he was doing. The way he’d packed clothing together, threading fabric between each other to create safety from the outside world. 

But now, the door had been flung open and Kindaichi stood at the threshold.

“Kindaichi! Stay downstairs!” Iwaizumi stands up. Kunimi whimpers without Iwaizumi’s comforting warmth flanking him, sinking back into his nest.

“Iwaizumi-san, please,” Kindaichi says, on the verge of tears. 

Iwaizumi bristles at the sight, immediately moving toward him, “What’s wrong? Where’s Oikawa?”

“He and, he and the Alpha are fighting!” Kindaichi cries. 

“What!? Where’s Yahaba and Kyoutani?”

“They’re gone! Iwaizumi-san, please!”

Iwaizumi lets out a sigh, fingers digging into his palms on what to do. If they are fighting he needs to seperate them  _ now _ . But he doesn’t want to leave the pups alone. But there’s no way he’s bringing Kunimi anywhere near two fighting Alphas. But  _ he _ probably smells like heat too and that might make the situation worse. 

But if no one is around who else can go into the lion’s den but him?

He hears a high pitched pained cry, loud enough to rise all the way to the second floor. Kunimi mirrors it in empathy, and now Kindaichi is shaking even more. 

“Fuck,” Iwaizumi hisses. 

He turns to Kunimi, “Stay in your nest. I’ll be right back, okay? Don’t come out until I’m back.” He then looks at Kindaichi, crouching down, and steering him out of the room so he can shut the door. “Kindaichi, I need you to listen to me.”

Kindaichi’s pupils are blown wide but Iwaizumi  _ needs _ him to focus. He shakes him lightly, “I need you to be a big boy right now, okay?”

“Iwaizumi-san?” he croaks. 

“I need you to sit here and protect Kunimi, okay? Just stay right outside his door. I’m giving you my phone. Call Mattsun or Makki, okay?”

“I’m scared,” Kindaichi says. 

Iwaizumi does not want to leave. In fact, everything in him is screaming he needs to stay here and make the pups feel safe. He is failing them if he leaves them behind. 

He hears another yowl come up from the basement. 

“It’s okay to be scared,” he replies, “But you have to trust me and Oikawa okay? We’re always going to keep you safe, remember?”

Kindaichi nods, squeezing the cell phone in his hands. 

“You trust us, right?” 

Kindaichi nods again.

“And I’m trusting you, okay? I’ll be right back.”

Kindaichi swallows, but it doesn’t steady him enough to stop his incessant shaking. Iwaizumi squeezes his little shoulders. It’s clear Kindaichi does not want him to go. Iwaizumi has to wrench his eyes away in order to manage climbing down the stairs. 

He swivels into the kitchen, moving towards the closed basement door. He flings it open and almost falls down the steps when he is hit with a wall of aggression. His knees practically buckle at the scent of pure Alpha, sweaty and  _ angry _ , trying to suffocate him. 

“Fuck,” he hisses, shutting the door quickly. 

He braces himself against the wall, taking in some fresh breaths. 

He hears a loud keen now, high and pathetic, and through the door he’s unable to figure out who it's from. But the sound digs nails into his stomach lining and he  _ has _ to go down there. He needs to separate them before they kill each other.

He takes in a big gulp of fresh air and opens the door. 

It’s dark in the basement, and once he can focus past the stench of aggression, he is hit by the sounds of snarling mouths, scraping claws and heavy breathing. And that loud keening, again, that makes his hair stand on end. 

Iwaizumi creeps closer, pressing himself to the wall to get a better look. He needs to assess what the hell is even happening. He doesn’t smell much blood, so that’s one good sign. 

He can see through the railing of the stairs that they’ve both shifted. Oikawa has Ushijima pinned to his mattress, baring his teeth, dripping saliva and blood onto Ushijima’s muzzle. Ushijima’s teeth are bared too, but Oikawa has his paw firmly placed against the chain attached to Ushijima, wrenching his neck to the side and keeping him stuck in place. 

Iwaizumi shivers at the sight, his heart rate instinctively picking up. 

He shouldn’t shift. 

Oikawa opens his jaws, hot breath on Ushijima’s face, and that  _ keening _ noise is ripped from  _ Ushijima’s _ throat, resulting in a flail of his paws, and a failed attempt to pull away. Iwaizumi’s mouth goes dry and he feels his own whine burble in the back of his mouth at such an erotic display. At seeing  _ his _ Alpha bring another Alpha to submission. 

He must have let the whine out, because Oikawa looks at him, brown eyes almost blown entirely black. There’s little human left in him. His gaze is beckoning, intense. An order:  _ come here. _

Iwaizumi shifts. 

Ushijima falls completely still. His gold eyes are also dark, pupils too wide to to be anything but animal, and they are glued to Iwaizumi, absolutely eating him up. Iwaizumi must stink of heat. He can’t blame him for it.

But Oikawa growls, possessive, tugging the chain under his paw so that Ushijima’s head is wrenched back against the mattress, breaking his stare. Both of their chests are heaving and now that Iwaizumi is a wolf too, he can’t help but find that they smell  _ so good _ . 

Iwaizumi pads closer, cautious, tail pressed tightly against his rear and ears pinned back. He slinks toward Oikawa’s side, being sure to rub his flank against his. It relieves a bit of his own anxiety and seems to calm the raised hairs on Oikawa’s hackles, but it does little to humanize his feral eyes.

And then Oikawa turns to lick his face, making Iwaizumi’s eyes squeeze shut in sudden needy bliss. His mate smooths the fur down on his face, warm and comforting and Iwaizumi can’t help but reciprocate the sudden bout of grooming. He is stressed, he is being stretched past his capabilities. All he wants is to lean on his mate. 

Oikawa’s face presses into the glands at the base of Iwaizumi’s neck, scenting him and licking him as if they were alone in their own bed. There’s a deep rumble emanating from Oikawa’s ribcage, and if Iwaizumi was himself, he’d be blushing. 

Ushijima makes a noise, trying to move again. Oikawa snaps his jaws back at him, giving a warning snarl and tugging at the chain with his clawed foot. Iwaizumi realizes he hasn’t relieved any of that pressure there. Ushijima is still trapped, collar cutting into his throat. Ushijima’s neck is thick, covered in black fur, but it’s  _ beautiful _ . The way it’s arched, so vulnerable and submissive. His rapid breathing makes it pulse up and down in an enticing display. Iwaizumi finds himself licking his lips. 

Even in wolf form Iwaizumi can tell when Oikawa is smirking. His canines peek out and his eyes shine with an eerie kind of mirth. Oikawa nudges him forward with his nose and Iwaizumi hesitates, shock coloring his face. Is Oikawa really…?

He squints at Oikawa, a silent question.

Oikawa licks his own teeth.

Iwaizumi turns back to Ushijima who is refusing to look at him. Head turned to the side, teeth snapping uselessly at the chain underneath Oikawa’s paw. 

Iwaizumi leans down, breathing in Ushijima’s scent fully. He smells of blood, rust and sweat. But there’s the smell of fresh cut grass beneath the stench, sweet and enticing. He wants  _ more _ of it, and it feels like it’s filling his head so much he can’t even think past that word:  _ more _ . 

He presses his face into Ushijima’s neck, breathing in the musky scent and rubbing in his own.  _ Mine _ . He can smell Oikawa on him too, and for whatever reason it just makes him _ more  _ excited. 

_ Ours.  _

He can feel Oikawa pressing against his side, a comforting weight, and his smell envelope him too.

_ Ours _ . 

Iwaizumi lets out a whine, the sound muffled into Ushijima’s fur. He feels his front legs buckle underneath Oikawa’s increasing weight, pressing him further into Ushijima’s warmth. Oikawa is practically on top of him at this point, head bent to press against his neck, shoving him closer into Ushijima’s body, until there is no space between any of them. 

Ushijima actually  _ keens _ again, a pitiful little whimper and this is getting dangerous, Iwaizumi knows. The air is sticky. He can feel himself getting wet, slick starting to drip down his thighs. It’s too warm. His mind is dizzy. He has an  _ Alpha _ beneath him. And Oikawa above him.  _ Oikawa _ . Oikawa isn’t helping, licking the base of his neck, growling in his ear and purring against his back, egging him on. He can feel Oikawa’s excitement, so close to his rear, but not enough to satiate the desire burning in him. 

Ushijima makes another noise, guttural and needy, rutting up into Iwaizumi. Oikawa snarls, pressing harder against Iwaizumi, sandwiching him tightly between the two of them. Oikawa is able to push him so close that he can snap his own jaws just shy of Ushijima’s throat. Ushijima arches his neck even further, and that’s when Iwaizumi notices Oikawa isn’t holding the chain anymore. Ushijima could easily throw them off. 

But he isn’t. 

Iwaizumi can feel the heat from Ushijima, his labored breathing against his flank, and the scent of his arousal. Iwaizumi presses his face into his neck, nipping at the fur there, eliciting a shiver from the larger wolf that has more slick rush down his thighs. Oikawa smooths Iwaizumi’s neck fur with his own tongue and Iwaizumi can’t help the loud needy whine that erupts from his throat. He arches his back, pushing his hips against Oikawa’s, shoving his face into the void of Ushijima’s fur. 

He wants Oikawa to fuck him. 

He wants Oikawa to fuck him on top of Ushijima. 

What is he thinking?

How did he get here?

A blast of cold water has him letting out a high pitched yelp. Oikawa jumps off him with his own scream, snarling at the source before getting water shot right at his face. Ushijima howls as well, not immune to the sudden cold spray.

Iwaizui is blasted with more water, letting out another shout as he climbs off Ushijima entirely. He shakes the water from his coat, adjusting his eyes to the sudden brightness of the room. He can finally see Matsukawa and Hanamaki, each armed with a hose. 

“Playtime’s over horndogs,” Matsukawa says. 

“We really can’t leave you three alone ever, can we?” Hanamaki sighs. 

The water is a palette cleanser. It washes away the sickly aroma of sex and sweat, leaving just the unappetizing smell of wet dog. Iwaizumi shakes his head and feels reality sink into him. 

He looks over at Oikawa, who’s pupils have shrunk down but remain big enough to convey shock. He’s staring at Ushijima, and Ushijima, wet and bleeding, looks much the same. As if everyone had been caught in some unnatural horrific spell. Compelled to move without permission, victims of cruel instinct alone.

Hanamaki waves his hose threateningly, “Alright, you two. Go up, come on, go shower your sins away,” he calls, as he herds the two wolves up the stairs. 

Iwaizumi doesn’t want to go. But he doesn’t want to stay either. He wants the void to swallow him up so he doesn’t have to think about what he almost did. What he almost let happen. So he follows Oikawa numbly up the stairs, unable to do much else. 

The last thing Iwaizumi sees before the basement door closes is Matsukawa helping to towel Ushijima off, and Ushijima’s golden eyes locked on his. 

And he can’t decipher the emotion behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i cant believe im being horny on main. someone stop me
> 
> anyway sorry for the wait! it's been a busy summer
> 
> comments make me smile
> 
> until next time


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He held the chain. 
> 
> He swore he would never hold the chain. He promised. 
> 
> He promised Iwaizumi.

It’s hot. 

It’s too hot. 

Kunimi lets out a low groan, curling tighter in on himself. His skin is sticky with sweat, making his forehead feel glued to his knees as he hugs them. He’s only in his underwear, but even that feels like too much. 

One of Kindaichi’s socks is stuck to his back, the scratchy fabric concentrating even more heat there. All the fabric circled around him is just making a dome of fire, but he doesn’t want to leave. 

It’s called a  _ nest _ .

And he built it himself. 

And it keeps him safe. 

It’s hard to explain. It was easier with Iwaizumi, because Iwaizumi understood, and had words for the things Kunimi felt compelled to do. Like build his  _ nest _ .

He rolls a bit, realizing that if a sock was glued to his back it meant a piece of his nest was out of place. He reaches behind him, grasping the wet fabric. It smells of sweat, but it also still smells of Kindaichi. 

_ Kindaichi _ . 

He whines. He can’t help it. The sound just comes out of him, and he presses the sock into his nose. Kindaichi smells so nice. Like a fresh breeze in a heatwave. 

Everything was so smelly now. 

He could pick up all the distinct scents in the room. Instead of a pile of clothes, he could pick out each item, which ones were who’s, how long it had been since each one was worn, etc. Everything smelled so much he could barely open his eyes. The smells dove into his nostrils to push against his skull. 

It was  _ painful _ .

But when he smelled Kindaichi, or Kyoutani-san, or Oikawa-san, it didn’t hurt so much. It didn’t smell new and powerful and scary. It smelled like safety. It smelled  _ good _ . 

He wishes one of them was in here with him. 

He wishes Iwaizumi-san would come back. 

Iwaizumi-san smelled okay. He smelled the same as always, and the scent of the pack was comforting in its own way. Kunimi doesn’t know how to describe the difference, other than to say the Alpha’s smelled more... _ vibrant _ . 

His stomach seizes and he shudders, doubling back over to press his sweaty forehead into the floor. He lets out a high pitched whine, fingers digging into the flesh just underneath his belly button as if he could rip his own internal organs out. 

It  _ hurts _ . 

“Kunimi?”

Kunimi shoots his head up and tries to find his voice. He can’t. His throat feels parched. He should drink water. Iwaizumi-san said it was important to keep drinking water. 

He forces himself to crawl out of his nest. It’s a degree cooler out in the open, but he feels vulnerable. He hitches his shoulders up to his ears, shielding his neck as he crawls over to the water bottles. 

He already drank two of them. 

“Kunimi, are you okay?” 

Kunimi looks over at the door, where Kindaichi’s voice is coming from. He can feel his worry through the door, and Kunimi wants nothing more than for Kindaichi to tear it down and come sit with him in the nest he built. Kindaichi won’t feel stressed there. He’ll feel safe like Kunimi does, and he’ll make the whole place smell good.  Kunimi wants to press his face into Kindaichi’s chest and fall asleep. 

  
The pups tend to fall asleep on each other regardless. In the mess of rolling around at night, Kunimi usually ends up sleeping on Kindaichi somehow. But this desire is different. He feels it deeper in his bones. This strong need that grinds against his stomach, reminding him of how empty he is. Empty of what, he doesn’t know. Maybe empty is the wrong word. It is like he is missing something.

Kunimi doesn’t like touching all that much. Sure, he likes it to sleep, finds that it slows his heart rate down when he’s near another packmate. But other than that, he likes to be by himself. Kindaichi gets it. He doesn’t press. He keeps his distance and lets Kunimi be without any complaint.

But right now, Kunimi  _ needs _ someone to press against him. Maybe that’s what he’s missing. He’s touch-starved and anxious. His stomach is tearing itself apart and he’s alone. 

He’s alone. 

Why is he alone?

Something seizes in his heart. This should not be a new revelation. He had been alone for a good while now. He  _ likes _ being alone. Right?

No.

He feels his hands claw at his chest as he curls inward. 

He doesn’t want to be alone. 

He can’t be alone.

Alone is unsafe. He’s not safe. It’s so  _ hot _ . The world is dizzy and scary and he is alone and--

  
And he is crying. 

He gasps, breaths coming more ragged and desperate, wiping at his face. He hears barking, and it frightens him more. He is alone and a monster is coming to eat him. He is going to die. 

He wants Iwaizumi-san. 

He wants Oikawa-san. 

He wants Kindaichi. 

He wants  _ anybody _ .

“Don’t!--”

The door slams open.  

Kunimi whips his head up to see what’s going on despite his blurry tearfilled vision. Through the wet haze he can see Kindaichi, but more importantly he can  _ smell _ him, anxious but there. Cinnamon sticks and the metallic taste of the playground. 

He whines. 

And then he smells something else, he smells milk and honey, and suddenly feels fur all around him. He gasps and his arms fling out to hold onto the sudden warm presence, and sure, it makes the temperature rise but the thump of another heartbeat against his skin makes the world less overwhelming. 

Kageyama presses his wet nose into the crook of Kunimi’s neck. 

“Kageyama, no!” Kindaichi shouts, fingers digging into the edge of the doorway, like it’s the only thing keeping him from bursting into the room after him, “We can’t go in!”

Kageyama barks back, but no one can understand him like this. He keeps pressing close to Kunimi, and for once, Kunimi sinks into him. Even though he’s a stranger. Even though he isn’t a packmate. Because at least he’s here, with him. And it’s all he needs right now. 

He feels his heart rate slowing even more, the pain in his insides lessening with the pressure Kageyama gives him. And, Kindaichi.  _ Kindaichi _ . Kunimi whines, so unlike himself, and extends a hand in a grabby motion toward the boy. 

He finally finds his words, “Yutarou,  _ please _ ” 

Something changes in Kindaichi’s face.

His eyes grow just a touch wilder, shoulders tensing where they’re raised, and Kunimi doesn’t even remember seeing him move. Instead, Kindaichi is suddenly there, pushing Kageyama away so he can take Kunimi in his own arms. 

And he smells so  _ good _ . 

Kageyama growls. 

Kindaichi growls right back. 

Kunimi sinks into the both of them, silencing their petty growls with a suffering whine and a strong grip on Kageyama’s scruff and Kindaichi’s arms. 

He just wants to be held.

So they hold him. 

* * *

Oikawa feels sick.

Iwaizumi won’t look at him. Won’t speak to him even as they both step into their shower together after shifting back to themselves. Oikawa can’t look at him either.

Iwaizumi is quicker than him, more clinical in his approach of cleaning the sweat and slick from his body. He’s in and out before Oikawa even has time to lift his head from the spray. 

He feels sick. 

Oikawa Tooru enjoys being in control. Not necessarily in an ambitious way. He has no desire to create a strong pack network under his thumb.  He just wants to be in control of himself. 

But just now he wasn’t. 

Again. 

He doesn’t understand how another Alpha could insight such primal instinct in him. Could wrench the human from under his fingers so easily. It makes him sick to his stomach to think of what he had done. What he had coerced his mate to do. What he had  _ forced _ Iwaizumi to do. 

Not even his own ruts have sent him into such feral rage. Even in the heat of Iwaizumi’s, well,  _ heats _ , he’d always attained a level of rationality, of level headedness, of  _ human-ness _ .

But just the sight of Ushijima’s face fills him with such irrational hatred. A desire to claw at him, to swipe the smugness from his brow and prove himself  _ Alpha _ .

Which isn’t like him. 

He hates it. 

He hates what Ushijima pulls out of him.

He shakes his head and picks at the skin of his fingertips. 

That’s unfair of him. 

This time, it wasn’t Ushijima’s fault. 

It was him. 

He had all the power, he dictated the situation, he got inflated by the rush of adrenaline that came with Ushijima’s sudden submission. 

He held the chain. 

He swore he would never hold the chain. He promised. 

He promised Iwaizumi.

“You still in there bud?” 

Oikawa looks over to see Hanamaki behind the glass. He doesn’t react when the man opens the sliding door and turns off the water. Instead, he burrows his face into the other’s neck as he’s manhandled out of the shower, ignoring the huffs of annoyance about soaking the other’s clothes.

“You’re such a bratty baby,” Hanamaki sighs, dragging the limp man over to his closet. “Cheer up, boss.”

Oikawa keeps his head down, breathing in more of Hanamaki’s familiar scent to calm down his high levels of anxiety. “How’s Iwa-chan?” 

“He’s with the pups,” Hanamaki responds.

Oikawa hesitates, biting his lip before opening his mouth again, “How’s, uh, how’s Ushiwaka?”

“We have him showering down the hall. He hasn’t really said anything.”

Oikawa fidgets as Hanamaki helps get him dressed, “Are Yahaba and KyouKen back?”

Hanamaki hums, “Yahaba’s playing fetch with him in the yard.”

“Everyone’s stressed,” Oikawa sighs.

“I think we’re due for a run,” Hanamaki offers.

Oikawa blinks, pursing his lips and lifting his arms up so Hanamaki can put his shirt on. He lets his hands drop to hang around Hanamaki’s shoulders and tug him closer. “You think?” he murmurs into his skin. 

Hanamaki’s soft laugh tickles the hairs behind Oikawa’s ear, “When’s the last time we did?”

Oikawa rubs the side of his face into Hanamaki’s neck scent marking him more for his own sake than the other’s, “We’ll have to wait until Kunimi’s heat ends.” Hanamaki hums to show his agreement, tilting his neck back to give the Alpha better access. “But then, hmm, I think you’re right.”

“I usually am,” Hanamaki agrees, pulling away. 

“Isn’t that my line?” Oikawa counters, his normal smirk flashing across his face. 

“Apologies, supreme leader,” Hanamaki quickly replies with an extra flourishing bow. Oikawa laughs, and it feels nice to release the tension in his chest. Hanamaki smiles at him, “I’m gonna go work on dinner. You gonna be okay?”

Oikawa nods, letting the man leave him. After another moment of solitude he decides to get up as well and make his way down. He pauses outside the pups’ door, the scent of heat wafting from the crack underneath the doorway inviting him in. He resists; he doubts Iwaizumi wants to see him. He doesn’t want to stress Kunimi out more than he already he is. 

What a failure of an Alpha he is. Unable to soothe his own mate, or his pups. 

Oikawa squeezes his eyes and reminds himself their not  _ his _ pups. He doesn’t have pups. He most likely never will. 

Probably for the best. 

He shakes his head, the action causing him to realize he’s picking at the ends of his fingers again. His ring finger is bleeding. He licks up the drops and squeezes the injury with the fingers of his other hand to stop it from bleeding further. He walks down the stairs. 

He gives a wide berth to the basement door, left open to air out. It smells disgusting and he doesn’t want to send Ushijima back down there. Where to put him then, though? He starts doing some more mental math in his head. If Iwaizumi wants to be in the tent with Kunimi, Kageyama can join him there. Kindaichi could stay with him in the master bedroom, and then Ushijima would be free to stay in the pups’ room. 

He couldn’t be chained, though. 

Oikawa bites his lip. 

Maybe he shouldn’t be at all. Sure, Ushijima is still a relative stranger, but if anything’s he’s proven himself to be a staunch traditionalist, and if there’s one nice thing about traditionalists, it’s that they respect the divisions between Omegas and Alphas. Ushijima wouldn’t be a danger to Kunimi, or the other pups, now that it is clear where those divisions are. 

The more he thinks of it the more he worries he’d just been enjoying the surge of power of having another Alpha submit in chains, and the thought makes his nails dig into his skin. The idea makes him sound like his old pack leader, of all people, and Oikawa feels sick. 

Maybe he should just tell Ushijima to go. He’s sure the man will be dying to leave now more than ever. At this point he can limp fairly easily on his leg--although, Oikawa may have hurt it more now, so who knows--and he doubts Ushijima will shift in front of the house just to bring unwanted attention--again, even though he hates them, he’s a staunch traditionalist, and the pact of secrecy is one of their highest tenants. He’s not just some random rogue like they had initially feared. 

But what if he wants to take Kageyama?

Kageyama isn’t his pup. The name Kageyama isn’t even in the directory, so he’s most likely not even part of the highly organized Shiratorizawa pack. Ushijima refuses to give forth any information around him, and the whole thing seems too suspect to just drop. As much as the pup is annoying, Oikawa can’t shake the feeling that something is horribly wrong---no shifter should be stuck in a shift for this long. He’s not going to let a pup go back to a pack that thinks that is acceptable. 

Plus, Iwaizumi is already attached, and nothing will prevent him from protecting a pup in danger. 

Oikawa sighs, realizing he’s picked more pesky skin from the ends of his fingers. He’s got more blood on his hands than before and turns to the sink to wash off. He needs fresh air. He needs distraction. 

He opens the sliding door and gets a tennis ball to the face, ripping a shout from his throat. 

“Oikawa-san! I’m so sorry!” he hears Yahaba scream. 

Before Oikawa can even respond, a big blond wolf has toppled him completely over to secure the wet tennis ball in his mouth. His dirty paws bear the full brunt of his weight on Oikawa’s chest and he feels the air being pressed right out of him like a sad accordion. Finally the pressure leaves and he’s able to curl up with a groan. 

Yahaba is at his side in an instant, offering a hand and a worrying look. “Oikawa-san! Are you okay?”

Oikawa responds by taking the hand and sitting up, combing the leaves out of his hair with his sore fingers. “And you?” he deflects. 

Yahaba frowns, looking away when Kyoutani nudges his hand with his snout and drops the slimy tennis ball. Yahaba take his time to pick it up and throw it to the other side of their yard, “I’m sorry I ran off.”

Oikawa hums, “I’m sure KyouKen is excited you gave him the excuse to shift.”

Yahaba snorts, petting Kyoutani’s head when he returns, “He’s so much more agreeable when he’s a dog.”

“He’s a lot cuter too,” Oikawa agrees.

Yahaba flushes, and Oikawa adds that reaction to his growing list of interesting notes on his pack. Yahaba shakes the color away and throws the wolf another ball, “Now he won’t turn back until he’s tired or hungry.”

“You could ask him to shift back,” Oikawa reminds, leaning back on his palms. 

Yahaba bites his lip, “He doesn’t understand us like this.”

Oikawa stays silent. 

The silence makes words bubble up Yahaba’s throat, “I’d have to shift to tell him that.”

Oikawa still doesn’t respond. 

Yahaba, this time, doesn’t find any words. He throws the ball again. Then, he changes the subject, “Is Kunimi okay?”

“He will be,” Oikawa replies mercifully, standing up and brushing the dirt off the seat of his pants, “But that reminds me, come help me set up the tent. Maybe seeing us struggle will spur KyouKen into shifting.”

* * *

Ushijima is at a loss. So much so he had not realized how long he had been under the cold spray of water until the Beta calls to him through the door, “Do you need help?”

“I am capable of washing myself,” Ushijima responds matter of factly, and that statement itself is enough to get him to start actually doing so. He scrubs himself down with soap, careful of his injured leg, and watches the blood flow down the drain. Luckily, most of the scratches are superficial. It’s only his leg that worries him. 

His neck is tender to the touch, so he ignores it for the most part. He grabs some shampoo to scratch into his scalp. His hair is getting a bit long. He wonders if he can get scissors to cut it. 

After rinsing he shuts the the shower off. He shakes the droplets from his hair out of habit before taking the towel left for him and using it to dry himself off thoroughly. He wraps the fabric around his waist and limps out of the bathroom. 

The Beta is there, leaning against the opposing wall. He looks up from his smart phone and offers a lopsided smile. Ushijima doesn’t return it. The Beta motions to the door beside him and Ushijima goes in, surprised he isn’t being herded back downstairs to the basement. 

Instead, he is ushered into a small bedroom with a queen size bed and room for not much else. There are photographs  _ everywhere _ , covering the walls, hanging from the ceiling on strings, and framed atop the dresser. It is impossible to take them all in as he is guided to the bed and forced to sit down. 

The room’s scent is bland and unintrusive. This must be where the Betas are sequestered. There are three of them in this so called pack, however. Do they all fit in this one bed?

“Scooch up a little,” the Beta orders, “Or I won’t be able to wrap up your leg.”

  
Ushijima complies, scooching backwards onto the bed. It seems all the pictures are of members of the pack, shifted and unshifted. Many of the photographs showcase much younger faces of the pack members, of Yahaba as a pup and of Oikawa and Iwaizumi as fresh teenagers. But some are much more recent. There is even one of Kageyama, curled up with the two other pups. 

The majority are of the two adult Betas, who, despite looking very different, Ushijima has trouble differentiating between the two. Their smell is near identical. 

He hisses when the Beta straightens his leg out forcefully. His fingers grip the sheets beneath him to distract him from shouting. He’d made enough embarrassing noises today to last the rest of his lifetime. 

“Sorry, bud,” the Beta murmurs, not pausing as he wraps the gauze tightly around his shin, “Oikawa really did a number on you, huh?”

Ushijima doesn’t respond. 

The Beta continues to wrap, humming a song Ushijima doesn’t recognize to fill the silence. He finishes it up with a thick strip of medical tape. Ushijima thinks they are done and it is time for him to go back to the basement, but the Beta simply digs through his first aid bag for an ice pack. 

It is the Beta’s turn to hiss out, cringing as he comes up to face Ushijima, “I really don’t know what the best plan is for your neck,” he confesses, offering him the ice pack, “The bruising is really bad.”

Ushijima takes the ice pack but makes no move to place it against his neck, “May I see?”

“Yeah, hold on,” the Beta responds, rummaging around his closet, “Maki’s got a hand mirror here somewhere.”

Ah, so this is the not-Hanamaki Beta. Matsukawa, if he remembers right. 

Matsukawa offers him a mirror and Ushijima takes it, angling it carefully to reveal the aftermath of the fight on his neck. 

His neck has always been typical of any Alpha. Thick, trunk like, sturdy. It had remained unmarried, a testament to his own status and power. Few had ever challenged him, and none who did have ever bested him. 

Until now. 

Although, the wounds here are not the bite marks of another wolf, but the digging of a metal chain in his supple skin. A ring of violent purple encircles his throat, darkening and expanding just under his chin where it had pressed in the most. There, it was almost black in color, spreading like an inkblot, violet at the edges. 

He traces his fingers against the pattern, unable to force down the shudder that runs down his spine from the ghosted touch. 

It is strangely pretty. 

In fact, it is  _ very _ pretty. 

Ushijima rationalizes that the sight of chain marks on an Omegan neck is  _ supposed _ to be pretty, so this thought is not that weird. Of course his neck is not slim like an Omega’s because he is  _ not _ an Omega. 

But it is still pretty. 

He presses a finger into the darkest spot below his chin, gritting his teeth at the spike of pain that shoots through him. 

It hurts. 

In an invigorating kind of way. In a,  _ I have cheated death _ , kind of way. 

He thinks of the face Oikawa made when he growled into his ear and when he tugged at the chain, and he wishes the man had been human, so that he could have witnessed his beautiful face contort into such anger and hatred, focused on  _ him. _

He stops. 

What is he thinking?

He realizes then that his heart is beginning to race and he quickly retracts his hands from his neck and places the mirror down. 

“Yeah, I’m not a medical expert but touching isn’t gonna help,” Matsukawa snorts, “You should ice it, it’ll keep the swelling down and speed up the shrinking of the bruises.”

Ushijima hates that his first thought is that he doesn’t necessarily want the bruising to go away. 

“Are you a photographer?” he asks, instead.

Matsukawa blinks, before letting loose another lopsided smile, “Nah,” he confesses, looking around the room, “But Makki is. A damn good one too.”

Ushijima squeezes the ice pack in his hands before finally pressing it against his neck. He squeezes his eyes shut at the jolt of ice that hits his tender flesh, but refuses to show the Beta any sign of weakness. 

He distracts himself by fishing for more information, “It must be difficult to share one bed with so many Betas.”

Matsukawa blinks, letting out a laugh that surprises Ushijima. “Nah, man,” he corrects, “It’s just me and Makki here. Yahaba has his own room down the hall.”

“Oh, interesting,” Ushijima mutters, pressing the ice pack to the other side of his neck, “Is there a particular reason for separating the Betas?”

Matsukawa furrows his eyebrows, “I don’t think Yahaba would want to be in this room with us.”

“Why not?”

“Well,” Matsukawa huffs, annoyance seeming to bleed into his usually carefree tone, “We like to fuck without an audience. Usually.”

The ice pack slips entirely from Ushijima’s hand, thudding mutely onto the bed. 

“You and the other Beta have intercourse?” Ushijima repeats, incredulously.

Matsukawa leans back, “On this very bed.” He pats the duvet for emphasis.

Ushijima tries to get up and almost has his leg give up on him. He is forced to remain seated. His brain fires to many questions into his mouth, and the only one that comes out is, “Why? There’s no purpose to that?”

Matsukawa blows air through his pursed lips, “It must be sad living in that brain of yours. Look, I hate to break it to you, but sex doesn’t have to be about pumping out the most pups the fastest. There’s a lot of better reasons, actually.”

“Says a man who talks of mating so crudely,” Ushijima spits back, wondering if he should place the ice pack against his cheeks to keep from overheating. “This pack is absolute anarchy. Every time I believe I have found someone sensible they turn out to be just the opposite.”

“Sorry that we break your societal worldview. Do you need a tissue to cope?”

Ushijima snarls at the condescending remark, “There are reasons for these rules! Without the system there is chaos. How could you possibly understand anything I am saying when you have no reference point for reason?”

Matsukawa stands up, “You really have no idea, do you?”

“ _ I _ have no idea? You are the one’s living in anarchy! I have half a mind to bring you all back to Shiratorizawa so that you can see how a successful and powerful pack acts.”

Matsukawa snorts, rummaging through his drawer and throwing Ushijma a pair of pants and an old shirt, “Maybe we already know too well what that’s like.”

“How could you?” Ushijima demands. 

“Well, for one thing,” Matsukawa snaps, looking him straight in the eye, “Some of us are from Kitagawa Daichi.”

Ushijima’s eyes widen at the sudden revelation. And the coldness that seeps through his veins at the mention of the name easily rivals anything the ice pack melting in his hands could ever deliver. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this story is just ushijima coming to terms with being a bottom
> 
> i mean what
> 
> comments fuel me
> 
> see you next time!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He’d always been good at shifting. 
> 
> He makes it look effortless. 
> 
> (It had taken a lot of effort to do so).

Once class for the day ends for him and the other Alphas, Oikawa does his best to slink away. Formal class may have ended, but the rest of the day is meant to be spent sparring or metalworking.Oikawa has no desire to do either. He has more pressing matters at hand.

He hurries around the edges of the pack commune, until he is out of sight and blocked by the tree line. There, he quickly disrobes, stuffing his clothing into his backpack and zipping it up nice and tight. He takes a deep breath and he shifts. 

He’d always been good at shifting. 

He makes it look effortless. 

(It had taken a lot of effort to do so). 

As a wolf he can see better in the dim light, but the sounds of the forest are ten times more distracting. He can smell a waterfowl nearby in the creek and has to fight the urge to hunt it. He grabs his back pack with his teeth, carefully not to tear it, and ducks through the brush. 

He takes the long route along the edge of the territory until he’s able to sneak into the portion designated for unclaimed Omegas only. 

He pauses at the edge of the territory again to shift. He rummages through his heavy backpack to redress himself. This time, he adds his hooded cloak to his entire, in order to better shield his face from his packmates. 

Although, he doubts they will be able to realize he’s an Alpha; his scent is so weak he has enough trouble not being removed from the Alphan sections of camp. 

(His circumstances come with _some_ benefits, he supposes, despite what Kitagawa-san insists.)

Once dressed he hurries back onto the path and heads straight for the silkworm shed. 

Iwaizumi is inside. 

All the worry washes away when he fills his vision.

The cracks in his back don’t sting anymore, even as the weight of his backpack digs into the raw wounds. 

The tiredness that had sagged his shoulder’s dissipates.

He feels anew.

Iwaizumi always says something went wrong when they were born, just a month apart in the same little building, to two different unknown omegas. That they were put in the wrong roles. That Iwaizumi is an ugly excuse for an Omega and that Oikawa is too pretty for an Alpha. 

But, for the past few weeks, it’s become so clear to Oikawa that Iwaizumi is an incredible Omega, strong and handsome and kind and _healing_. 

“You look like a worm crawled up your ear and ate up whatever was left of your brain,” Iwaizumi snorts. 

Oikawa shakes the awe from his face, fixing up a pout instead and pulling his hood back, “Iwa-chan! That’s so mean! After I risked so much for you!”

“I keep telling you not to come,” Iwaizumi huffs, turning back on his stool to keep pulling the silkworm cocoons from their branches. Oikawa tries not to look at it. He’s still doesn’t get Iwaizumi ’s fascination with them, but he won’t argue with the privacy that comes with Iwaizumi secluding himself in the silkworm shed. 

“What would you do without my company?” Oikawa insists, taking a seat on the neighboring stool. He riffles through his bag for his textbook.

“Be more productive,” Iwaizumi sighs, grabbing the last cocoon on the branch before taking off his work gloves. He turns to face Oikawa then, scooching his stool closer so he can read along with Oikawa. 

Iwaizumi, like all the other omega’s in Kitagawa Daichi, ended his schooling when he was ten. His classes were mediocre to begin with, mostly focused on obedience training and trade skills. Early on all Omegas choose a trade path, with some being more popular—dye making, cooking—than others —silkworm husbandry.And there they stay until their betrothal ceremony. 

Oikawa had learned of this discrepancy early on when, despite Kitagawa Daichi’s intense segregation of its pups by secondary gender, Oikawa had ended up with the Omegas on his first day of school. 

That must have been when he first met Iwaizumi. He doesn’t really remember. It feels like Oikawa has always been at his side in some way or another.

Regardless, their nightly tradition started soon after. Of Oikawa sneaking off to teach Iwaizumi everything he learned that day, despite the danger in doing so for both of them. In spite of Kitagawa-san’s fury. In spite of everything, really.

“--and in other packs, pups stay with their parents all the way until their adults!” Oikawa is saying.

Iwaizumi blinks, “Isn’t that lonely? I like living with all the other Omega pups. They’re more fun to talk to than adults.”

“True. I don’t know, Alpha’s smell when there’s so many of them. I wouldn’t mind having my own room.”

Iwaizumi presses closer, enough that Oikawa can catch a faint hint of his scent, “How do they get anything done? If everyone’s just with their own family, how do they work for the pack and keep it strong?”

“I asked the same thing!” Oikawa agrees, flipping through his notebook, “Apparently a lot of them rely on the non-shifters to get the things they need.”

“Weird,” Iwaizumi murmurs. 

The chime of the curfew bells interrupt them. Iwaizumi stands up, “You should go.”

Oikawa doesn’t want to, but he knows he has to. He hesitates, “Iwa-chan, your ceremony is coming.”

Iwaizumi stiffens, hitching up his shoulders, “What about it?”

“Have you thought about, uh, who you wan--”

“I don’t get to choose, Oikawa.”

Something shifts in the world.

“I don’t get to choose!” Iwaizumi screams, and they’re not in the shed anymore. They’re just in darkness. Just the two of them. And Iwaizumi looks so young, compared to now. Still growing into his muscle, his green eyes too big for his face.

Oikawa takes a step back, and then he’s shoved forward by a phantom hand. Metal rustles and there’s a weight in his hands, heavy and ornate.

He looks down and he sees the chain. The chain he’d made painstakingly intricate, with vines running up and down the thin links.

As if making it pretty would make it less of a chain.

Iwaizumi looks just like he remembers. Pale, eyes wide and mouth aghast. He isn’t kneeling. Oikawa tries to throw the chain away, but it’s wrapped around him, coiling up his arms and tightening around his neck.

He gasps, fingers coming to clutch at his throat, but the pressure only grows and he can’t breathe.

Iwaizumi is staring at him, betrayed and scared and helpless and, and _angry_.

Oikawa wants to defend himself, but he can’t fight through the chain’s hold on his windpipe.

 _What a terrible excuse for an Alpha,_ he hears whispered in his ears, by the voice that still haunts him in all the corners of his mind that hate. That hates himself.

His vision spots, and he can’t argue with the voice, because he has no voice of his own.

_You ran from me, but you can not run from nature, my dear Tooru._

* * *

Oikawa awakens from the memory fueled nightmare, gasping for breath. He hears a whine, and feels a heavy pressure against his chest preventing him from breathing properly. He feels a sudden panic, that he is being tied down and Kitagawa-San is actually here, and not just a voice berating him in his head. He squeezes his eyes shut as if it will wish her away.

When he opens them, he finds Kindaichi curled up on his chest. The burden is no longer terrifying. In fact, it’s just the opposite. The small warm body is a comforting weight against his pounding heart.

He sighs, bringing a hand up to rest on the nape of the pup’s neck, letting his own breathing even out again.

Just a dream. Everything is fine.

He turns his own head to find the space beside him cold and empty. 

He fights the urge to whine. 

Well, everything wasn’t _fine_ , but it wasn’t as bad as it could be. As bad as it used to be.

He gropes for the phone on his nightstand, doing his best not to disrupt the sleeping pup, in order to check the time. It’s still morning, but barely, so he knows he needs to get up for the day. Kindaichi has a different opinion, curling up tighter to keep from being woken up. 

Oikawa sighs. 

To be fair, Kindaichi had a long day yesterday. He’d ended up in Kunimi’s nest, and it had taken both Iwaizumi and Hanamaki to coax him out. Having to explain to him why _he_ couldn’t stay with Kunimi but _Kageyama_ could had been a whole other ordeal in itself. 

The only reason the argument stopped was because Kindaichi tired himself out and passed out on the couch mid scream. 

Oikawa didn’t really want to wake him up.

He maneuvers the pup in his arms as he sits up, keeping him nice and close so the loss of another body doesn’t stir him into a panic. With one arm occupied holding the boy, he gets up to brush his teeth and comb his messy bedhair. 

Out of habit he checks on the pups’ room. 

Which is stupid. He knows exactly where the pups are. One is in his arms. The other two are outside. 

Ushijima is sleeping. 

Ushijima also had a long day. 

Oikawa hadn’t laid eyes on him since the incident, and seeing the taller Alpha fast asleep makes his stomach squirm. The man looks so relaxed, mouth open, face serene and smooth, without any of its normal harsh lines. 

His shirt has a wide neck, revealing _everything_. 

Oikawa holds Kindaichi closer to prevent himself from walking in and examining the full extent of the bruising. A surge of adrenaline shoots up his spine and straight to his groin at the sight of what he had done, of the masterpiece he had painted. 

He forces himself to turn around and close the door. 

He takes a deep breath.

Kindaichi murmurs in his sleep against his shoulder, and it helps him refocus. He pets his head and moves on to check on the teenagers. Their room is empty which is to be expected. Oikawa heads down the steps, holding the banister because of his precious cargo. 

Hanamaki is in the kitchen with Yahaba acting as sous chef. Matsukawa is sitting at the table offering unnecessary commentary. Kyoutani is there too, but his eyes are glued to the tent outside—keeping watch no doubt. 

Oikawa smiles.

The nightmare feels further and further away.

“Look who’s finally awoken,” Matsukawa hums, “Our Lazy King.”

Oikawa sighs, but his smile doesn’t disappear, “Has anyone checked on them?”

“They were still sleeping an hour ago when I poked my head in,” Yahaba says. 

“They haven’t moved,” Kyoutani confirms, without tearing his eyes away. 

“Do they have water?” Oikawa asks, handing off the sleeping pup to Matsukawa. Yahaba gives him a nod. 

“Why not check on them yourself, boss?” Hanamaki offers. 

Oikawa ignores him. 

He’s not going to willingly walk into the lion’s den when he knows Iwaizumi is furious with him. Rightfully, so too. He’s not suicidal. Not anymore. 

Yahaba brings up a merciful distraction, “Lunch is almost ready if everyone wants to grab a plate.”

Kyoutani stands up, but not because of the order. His eyes still haven’t left the yard, but they follow the figure of Iwaizumi as he walks over to the sliding door. Iwaizumi comes in with a yawn, stretching his arms up to let his elbows crack. 

The scent of heat around him is thick enough that Kyoutani is forced to sit down, gripping the back of his chair tightly. Kindaichi starts to stir in Matsukawa’s arms. 

“Mornin’” Iwaizumi grunts, rubbing his eye with the back of his palm, “Or, shit, it’s afternoon isn’t it?”

Yahaba hums, “We were just about to bring you some plates.”

Iwaizumi nods, “We need more water.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Oikawa says quickly, grasping at any chance to have a task to distract his fidgeting hands. 

Iwaizumi doesn’t respond. He just moves past him to ascend the stairs, most likely to shower and dress for the day. 

Oikawa ignores the concerned looks from his packmates in favor of filling up more water bottles and them with him to the yard. He places them down outside to unzip the tent. 

The sickeningly sweet aroma of  a First Heat winds him, but he shakes hishead to clear his senses. First Heat’s smell enticing to any Alpha, but in the same was as later Heats do when an Omega matures more. Smells more like a candy store than anything, and Oikawa is sure a younger him would find the aroma exciting, now it just reminds him of tooth decay. It’s nothing like what Iwaizumi’s heats smell like now.

Focusing back on the present, Oikawa finds that Kunimi has shifted, and is curled up tightly against Kageyama in the corner of the tent. At the sound and smell of Oikawa’s entry however, they both have perked up. 

Oikawa quickly brings all the water in before zipping himself inside. He does so in just enough time to finish before being bowled over by two needy wolf pups. At least he’d managed to keep them inside the tent.

“Let me fill your bowl!” he shouts to no avail, as Kindaichi tries to burrow under his shirt and Kageyama starts licking his cheek. 

Oikawa sighs, letting his head fall back against the ground in defeat. 

At the end of the day, it’s always nice to feel wanted.

* * *

Ushijima stirs from his sleep when he hears a knock at the door. He groans, blinking his eyes open expecting to see gray concrete. Instead, soft beige paint surrounds him, and beneath him he is enveloped by a cushiony futon rather than a torn up mattress.

He flicks his gaze toward the sound to find Iwaizumi standing at the door. 

He had not seen Iwaizumi since the incident. That time, he had also seen him at this angle, from beneath him. He can see the sharpness of his jaw, the muscles of his arms poking from the loose T-shirt he wears. His hair is wet and plastered to his head. He smells clean.

Ushijima remembers him pressed against him, a warm electric body, wet and writhing. He looks away, ashamed of the image he had conjured up so easily. He brings his hand up to rub against his tender neck. 

“Can I come in?” Iwaizumi asks. 

Ushijima frowns, “It is your home.”

Iwaizumi doesn’t accept the answer, repeating, “Can I come in?”

Ushijima sighs, “Yes.”

Iwaizumi ducks in, kneeling on Ushijima’s futon. Ushijima is surprised the Omega feels comfortable being so close to him after all he has done. Ushijima isn’t afraid, however. Not like when first awoke confused and hurt. Not at his first dinner when he was at a complete loss. 

He’d gotten slightly used to not having full control as of recently. 

Iwaizumi lifts his hand and Ushijima has to concentrate not to flinch away. 

“Can I?” Iwaizumi asks again. 

Ushijima nods, eyes tracking the Omega’s movements as Iwaizumi lets his hand cup Ushijima’s jaw and nudge him to the side. Ushijima feels his hackles raise at what is being asked of him.

Iwaizumi wants to see his bare neck. 

He fights back the redness trying to creep up his face. Tries to remind himself that this pack has no manners, and not to read too far into their actions. At least not through a rational lens.

“Let me see,” Iwaizumi murmurs.

Ushijima gives in, for whatever reason. Mostly because it hurts to keep his neck still against the slight pressure Iwaizumi emits. He turns his head completely, lifting up his chin to reveal the full magnitude of purple and black. 

Iwaizumi winces, letting his finger trace some of the edges. Ushijima can’t help but shudder at the feather light touch. 

Iwaizumi pulls back, “Do you want bandages? It won’t help, but it might make you feel more secure.”

Ushijima shrugs. 

Iwaizumi returns to his kneeling position, “I’m sorry about what happened.”

Ushijima blinks, “It is not your fault.”

Iwaizumi shakes his head, “I didn’t stop him.”

Ushijima squints, “Oikawa had control of you. How could an Omega hope to stop him?”

Iwaizumi glares at him, “Oikawa and I are a team. I am in control myself.”

Ushijima doubts any of that, but decides not to press. He’d learned it was pointless to teach these shifters about the reality of their natures. He’d rather ask something else, “You are from Kitagawa Daichi?”

Iwaizumi stiffens, but his face smoothes over just as quickly, “Oikawa and I were before we left, yeah.”

“I didn’t know shifters could leave Kitagawa Daichi.”

A smile breaks through Iwaizumi’s visage, surprising Ushijima by its presence, by its brilliance in the soft light, “They’re not supposed to. But we always find a way.”

Ushijima raises a brow, leaning back on his hands, “Is it truly as cruel as its reputation warns?”

“As cruel as Shiratorizawa is I’m sure,” Iwaizumi nods, smile never fading. 

Ushijima frowns, sitting back up to fold his arms, “What do you mean? Shiratorizawa was— _is_ not cruel. We are honorable shifters. Kitagawa is, is, is _perverse_.”

Iwaizumi hums, “Then why are _you_ here, Ushiwaka?”

“You have me hostage?”

“I see no chain tying you here. There is no one at the door. You’re free to go.”

“You have Kageyama.”

Iwaizumi concedes to that, not offering any sort of rebuttal. They sit in the silence of the impasse. It is only interrupted by Iwaizumi lifting his hand to smooth back some of Ushijima’s hair from the nape of his neck. 

Ushijima tries not to shudder nor hitch up his shoulders. Iwaizumi is still smiling softly at him, and for the first time Ushijima really accepts that Iwaizumi is an Omega. Despite his muscle, his stern expression and his brutish attitude. There is something healing in his smile, something that communicates safety. Something that pulls Ushijima to relax and trust him.

“They’re having lunch downstairs. I can bring up your food or you could join us. Do you have a preference?”

“Will I be able to use my hands?”

Iwaizumi laughs, and he slaps Ushijima on the back. He does it with enough force for Ushijima to hunch forward, quite the feat due to his overall mass.It’s even forceful enough to rattle against his ribs, making him feel jumbled up inside.It had made his heart skip a beat somehow. It is a foreign feeling and he doesn’t like it.

He stays still.

Iwaizumi removes his hand, but he still doesn’t leave. Ushijima gets the feeling that Iwaizumi doesn’t _want_ to leave, doesn’t want to return downstairs for whatever reason. He wonders if Iwaizumi needs him to accompany him, perhaps as an Alpha? But that would be sensible, and Iwaizumi has proven himself to be, like the rest of his so called pack, completely nonsensical.

“What’s keeping you here?” Iwaizumi asks.

Ushijima blinks at the question. He had already answered it. It was because of Kageyama he was staying. Because of his guilt and attachment to the pup. Because of his own culpability and self designed punishment. He doesn’t want to tell Iwaizumi all of that. Or any of that. Or repeat his first statement.

So instead he repeats his own question, “Is Kitagawa Daichi as the rumors say it is?”

Iwaizumi rolls his head to the side, expression losing its easy smile to something more somber. He doesn’t meet Ushijima’s eyes, and Ushijima doubts it’s because he suddenly realized how rude it is to have eye contact with an Alpha of greater status than him.

“What do the rumors say?” Iwaizumi counters after a pause.

“That Lady Kitagawa rips pups from their families and everyone is subjected to her whims?”

Iwaizumi hums, sitting back down, “I suppose that’s all true.”

“And that both Alphas and Omegas are treated like dirt.”

Iwaizumi raises an eyebrow, “Maybe in your eyes the Alphas were treated like dirt. But I can assure you, the Alphas were treated more than well. Well, most of them were.”

“Some weren’t?” Ushijima presses.

“Oikawa wasn’t.”

“Because he did not fit the stereotype?”

“Because he had the audacity to protect me.”

“All Omegas are worthy of protection.”

Iwaizumi snorts as he gets up,“You really have no clue do you, Ushiwaka?”

Ushijima does not understand the statement, nor what he had said to prompt it. He felt he had been following the conversation perfectly, but whatever had been communicate was enough to encourage Iwaizumi to leave him.

The room feels colder without him, and Ushijima spends a long moment rubbing his sore neck and debating whether or not he should venture downstairs. He isn’t sure if it’s worth his time or energy to willingly step into the lion’s den.

The solitude ends up being too much for him. He does not know for how long he will be given this freedom of mobility. He should take advantage of it. He does his best to stand up, groaning at the pain that shoots up his leg. Perhaps he should have let Iwaizumi help him. Although, part of him would never want to burden an Omega in that way.

He uses the wall to brace himself, leaning heavily against it to keep weight off his injured leg. He maneuvers carefully out of the room, wincing at the sight of the stairs before him.

Ushijima has never been one to run from a challenge.

He grits his teeth and tests his bad leg.

It hurts, horribly, but he can stand it for a bit.

He takes a deep breath and forces himself down the stairs. Fire races up his leg but he ignores it, quickening his pace until he reaches the end. The only thing that prevents him from collapsing is the banister, which he finds himself doubled over.

He breathes heavily, unable to even think with the hot white pain thrumming through his mind.

“You could have asked for help, bud,” Hanamaki calls.

Ushijima shoots his head up and sees that practically the entire pack is watching him. None have made the effort to get up though. He wipes his forehead. He’s sweating. Profusely.

Yahaba lets out a sigh, “I’ll help him,” he decides, pausing just to grab Ushijima a bottle of water.

Ushijima downs the drink, taking his time to limp to the table and take a seat. He rests his head against the table top and tries to refocus his breathing. Someone places a cool wet washcloth on his neck and it feels like heaven.

Conversation rekindles around him. He catches snippets of it, but he can’t bring himself to care or listen. No one of interest is speaking anyway.

He glances up to confirm the suspicion from his nose—neither Iwaizumi nor Oikawa are here.

He catches the former outside through the sliding glass door. Iwaizumi is walking to the a tent set up in the yard, armed with tupperwares of food. The pup in heat must be over there. Maybe that is where Kageyama is too.

He watches Iwaizumi place his containers on the grass before kneeling down and unzipping the tent. Ushijima squints to try to make out the man’s facial expression. He wishes he was outside so he could smell him to better gage his emotional state. Although, Iwaizumi’s scent _is_ faint.

Iwaizumi’s shoulders hitch up as he pitches slightly forward, and it looks like he’s laughing. The man shakes his head and crawls in and out of view.

“You can’t go in there,” the other Alpha in the home snaps, bringing him back to the lunch table. “Or I’ll kill you.”

Ushijima doubts he could.

Yahaba sits down next to the Alpha and nudges his side in some sort of disciplinary motion. He turns to Ushijima, “Feel free to eat as much as you want. Everything in the middle is free game.”

“I think we’ll be good,” Matsukawa murmurs, tearing his eyes from the tent now, “Oikawa hasn’t screamed, so Iwaizumi either murdered him swiftly, or they’ve made up.”

“Oikawa is in there?” Ushijima blinks, looking up.

No one thinks his question is worth answering. Ushijima accepts the silence and decides to just eat.

He’s starving.

* * *

 

Iwaizumi can’t help the smile that overtakes him when he unzips the tent, like he’d just cracked open his own wrapped up present.

Oikawa lays on the floor, eyes fondly watching Kunimi sleep, curled up against his shoulder. He has his hand lifted to rest against the pup’s head, scratching every so often just behind his ear.

Kageyama is splayed out against Oikawa’s side.His nose is pressed into Kunimi’s stray leg, while his toes stretch all the way down to Oikawa’s knees. It can’t be comfortable, but the pup is completely passed out.

Oikawa’s brown eyes flick over to him and there’s a nervous question in them, hinted by the sudden tremble in his hands.

Iwaizumi lets his shoulders relax as he crawls in.

“Should I go?” Oikawa whispers.

Iwaizumi smiles, “Can you?”

Oikawa looks back down at the two pups. He sighs, “Unclear,” he hesitates, craning his neck slightly to turn his head toward Iwaizumi, “But I can. If you want me to?”

“Shut up, Tooru,” Iwaizumi mutters, bringing in the food and setting it up against the edge of the tent. With that done he zips up the makeshift hub, effectively cutting them off from the rest of the world. It’s just the two of them now, like it’s always been, and two sleeping pups.

Iwaizumi knows they need to talk about it, but he doesn’t really want to. Not when Oikawa looks so soft and warm. Not when the scent of heat and contentment floats in the air. Not when Oikawa’s body looks so welcoming.

Iwaizumi lies down on his side, using Oikawa’s shoulder as a pillow and letting his leg hook around Oikawa’s own. Oikawa smiles, big and wide for him, free arm coming out to encircle Iwaizumi and pull him even closer.

Iwaizumi lets out a sigh—it definitely was _not_ a purr—and he hopes it sounds annoyed rather than sated. Still, he can’t help nuzzling into his Alpha’s neck. Oikawa tilts his head to rest atop Iwaizumi’s giving him free reign over his vulnerable throat.

“I had a nightmare,” Oikawa whispers. Iwaizumi isn’t sure if it’s to keep the pups from waking, or if Oikawa doesn’t want his words to be loud enough to exist.

Iwaizumi doesn’t respond, he just kisses the underneath of Oikawa’s jaw.

Oikawa’s breath hitches, “About, about Kitagawa.”

“Ushiwaka asked about that,” Iwaizumi responds, “Did you tell him?”

Oikawa shakes his head, frowning, “Haven’t said anything to him.”

“You need to apologize,” Iwaizumi says, pulling slightly back so he can look at Oikawa properly. Or as properly as he can when they’re this close.

He can tell Oikawa is fighting off a whine, from the way his throat bobs and he bits his lip, “He started it.”

“Oikawa.”

Oikawa sighs, looking away, “I know.”

“You really did a number on him,” Iwaizumi continues, tucking his chin in to rest more comfortably on Oikawa, “His neck is more purple than anything.”

Oikawa takes a moment to answer, “You sound proud.”

Iwaizumi snorts, lifting his head slightly, “Don’t be so conceited.”

“You _are_ proud,” Oikawa repeats, in awe, sitting up slightly.

“Proud’s the wrong word,” Iwaizumi grimaces, trying to pull back but unable to get far with Oikawa’s hand still wrapped around him.

“You were _impressed,”_ Oikawa continues, digging his fingers into Iwaizumi’s arm, “Do I impress you, Iwa-chan?”

“You’re going to wake the pups,” Iwaizumi deflects, bringing a hand up to shove the Alpha’s handsome face away.

“They need to eat anyway,” Oikawa says, and its all the warning Iwaizumi gets before Oikawa rolls right on top of him. Kunimi whines as he’s woken up but that doesn’t deter Oikawa in the slightest.

Iwaizumi’s mind takes too long to process he should be upset. It’s hard with the heat trapped in the tent. It’s hard with Oikawa nuzzling into his neck. It’s hard when Oikawa presses his lips against his and he can’t help but return the pressure.

Oikawa really can get away with anything.

Iwaizumi finds his hands digging into the back of Oikawa’s neck, tangling in his brown locks to pull him closer. He hopes the keen building in his chest is swallowed up by Oikawa without him hearing it. He doesn’t need his ego growing any bigger.

He feels his legs spreading, and he’s reminded quite rudely how much he’d wanted Oikawa yesterday. How much he needed him. And how he’d been denied him. Fuck, he’s starting to get wet again, heat radiating from his crotch, feeling like fire whenever Oikawa’s leg brushes against him.

Kunimi lets out a louder whine, and Oikawa is the one that pulls away with a sigh. Iwaizumi glares at him, because now he’s riled up without an outlet. That bastard.

“I’m sorry, Kunimi-chan,” Oikawa murmurs, picking up the little wolf and nuzzling into his face, effectively silencing his worrying. “Does that feel better?”

Iwaizumi bites his lip, fingers clawing at the flooring of the tent. Not from jealousy—actually far from it. The sight of Oikawa with his pups never fails to make him fall head over heels harder in love for his stupid Alpha. He wants him even more now. God.

 _You impress me every day,_ Iwaizumi can’t help but think to himself.

“You know,” Oikawa interrupts, “I think Kunimi might benefit from a pack pile.”

Iwaizumi relaxes his hands with effort, crawling closer to press against Oikawa to soothe the empty ache inside him. He pets the wolf pup, “It’s a bit soon.”

“It would make Kindaichi feel better.”

“You just want to sneak me back inside.”

Oikawa gives a sheepish smile, and Iwaizumi slaps his back as punishment.

“You should go back,” Iwaizumi says, as much as it pains him to say, “Before all the foods gone.”

“You’re the only meal I need.”

And just like that, the desire is gone. “Out.”

“Iwa-chan!”

“I said out!”

It’s only when Oikawa leaves him and after he finally convinces the pups to eat from their bowls that Iwaizumi is able to think over the conversation.

Oikawa had another nightmare. He hadn’t had one in so long. Why the sudden return?

He hadn’t asked for specifics. He’d been too distracted. He chastises himself for that internally. He’ll have to ask him about it later.

He pets Kunimi, scratching the back of his ears. Oikawa is right, a pack pile _would_ be good for Kunimi. Maybe tonight. Hopefully the worst of his Heat symptoms will be done by then.

* * *

Yahaba hunches his shoulders up as he washes the dishes. He can feel Kyoutani’s gaze burning into the back of his skull. But whenever he looks over, Kyoutani is staring out the window as usual, ever watchful of the tent. Kindaichi sits in the chair next to him doing much the same.

 _Alphas_ , Yahaba thinks.

Still, he swears Kyoutani is watching him, despite the lack ofevidence. He forces out a sigh, trying to relax his shoulders and ignore the phantom feeling of being watched. He’s almost done the dishes anyway.

“Why do you keep looking at Yahaba-san?” Kindaichi asks aloud.

Yahaba whirls around, vindicated, in time to see Kyoutani glaring at the pup. The red in his ears betrays him. Yahaba smirks, taking a towel to dry off his hands, “Yeah, KyouKen, why do you keep staring at me?”

Kyoutani glares at him.

“We need to keep watch on the tent to make sure Kunimi is safe, right?” Kindaichi continues, “Yahaba-san is safe already.”

The pup flinches when the older shifter stands up with a loud screech of his chair. Yahaba frowns. Kindaichi is sensitive as it is right now, alone and worried for his friend. Kyoutani doesn’t need to add to it with his tempter tantrums. He’d been so good all day too, just sitting still and quiet.

Kyoutani doesn’t look at him anymore, leaving the kitchen all together to stomp up the stairs. Yahaba rolls his eyes. Kindaichi looks at him with concern, and Yahaba forces on another smile, “I’ll go talk to him. Keep watch okay, Kin-chan? You’re doing a great job.”

Kindaichi gives a serious nod before turning back to the glass door, fingers squeezing tightly around the bars on the back of his chair. This time Yahaba does smile, nice and sincere.

With that renewed energy he makes his way up to the second floor. He doesn’t need to smell to know where Kyoutani is. An upset Alpha is going to go back to their space to feel more tethered, and there’s only one room in the house that must smell only of Kyoutani and no other Alpha.

The room they share.

Yahaba doesn’t bother knocking. It’s _his_ room too, after all. He just opens the door and neatly closes it behind him.

Kyoutani is laying on his bed, hands holding his pillow against his face. It’s a bit comical, and Yahaba has the urge to push the pillow down harder on his face just to get even more of a rise out of him.

“Are you done with your tantrum?” Yahaba asks. Kyoutani throws his pillow at him, and Yahaba easily knocks it away. It thuds anti-climatically on the floor between them. “Guess not,” Yahaba says, picking up the pillow and taking a seat on his own bed. He lets the pillow rest on his lap, smoothing over the fabric. “Why are you so mad right now?”

“Because of you!” Kyoutani snarls, kicking his legs out to give him the momentum to rise into a sitting position, “Why are you acting so calm!”

Yahaba blinks, raising an eyebrow, “Because I’m fine?”

“You’re not fine!” Kyoutani shouts, pointing an accusatory finger at him, “You ran off! You’re not fine at all, so stop fucking lying!”

Something cracks inside Yahaba, and he quickly holds his breath to let his body mend it. He sutures up the tear, and lets the air out in the form of a sigh, “I was just upset at the time. But it’s over now.”

Kyoutani leaps to his feet, “How can it be over if nothing’s happened! You’re still fucking upset!”

Yahaba grits his teeth behind his closed lips, hoping Kyoutani doesn’t notice his tightening grip on the pillow case, “Shouldn’t you be more worried about the _Omegas?”_

Kyoutani squints at him, “You matter too, idiot! Do you not get how distracting you are when you’re so fucking upset!? Just let—“

Kyoutani pales.

Yahaba doesn’t understand why.

Until the first tear drops hit his cheek.

His eyes widen, and his fingers rush to stem the sudden flow.

It doesn’t work, and his breath hitches in his clogged up chest, and the stitches are starting to tear at the seams inside him. “ _Fuck_ ,” he hisses. Why’d he let Kyoutani do this to him?

 _You matter,_ he repeats in his head.

_I matter._

_Do I?_

_I don’t know_.

Something’s thrust into his face, forcing him to rear back. It takes a minute for his blurry vision to realize Kyoutani is trying to hand him a tissue box while also not looking at him. His hackles are raised and his ears are still bright red.

Yahaba takes the box quickly and blows his nose.

Kyoutani sits back down on his own bed and crosses his arms.

Yahaba would snort if his nostrils weren’t all clogged up.

They sit like that for moments that feel like hours, until Yahaba has finally gotten himself under control. He keeps a tissue in his fist just in case, but finds the energy to say, “Sorry.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you,” Kyoutani hisses, standing up from the surge of anger that runs through his system. He paces in front of Yahaba for a second before deciding to sit down next to him.

Yahaba laughs despite himself, “A lot of things, actually.”

Kyoutani glares at him.

“Why do you care?” Yahaba mutters, when Kyoutani doesn’t rise to the bait.

“Because you’re mine!”

Yahaba blinks seven times in what feels like one second, “ _Excuse me?_ ” he growls, incredulously. His feels his whole body pulling away from the Alpha, instinctively.

The redness in Kyoutani’s ears has crept down into his face, smearing his cheeks hotly, “We’re a pack!”

Yahaba moves away, “Yeah, we are. But just because you’re an Alpha doesn’t make me _yours_.”

“That’s not—“

“Yo,” Matsukawa sings, opening up the door without knocking. He pauses, flashing Yahaba a concerned look. Yahaba waves him off, dropping the pillow he’d been clutching as a shield down onto his bed. “Uh, Oikawa wants to have a pack meeting downstairs.”

Kyoutani opens his mouth but Yahaba cuts him off with a bright smile, “Great!”

Before Kyoutani has any chance to respond, Yahaba is out the door and out of sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im having a lot of fun with this story oops
> 
> what do y'all think of oiks and iwas past pack?
> 
> I'm having a blast world building different kinds of pack structures lmao. 
> 
> comments keep me going. 
> 
> come yell at me on twitter
> 
> until next time!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oikawa goes to him, despite the intense pull from the pile, wrapping his arms around his mate. 
> 
> Iwaizumi leans into him without reservations.
> 
> “I miss you,” Oikawa whispers into his ear, tightening his grip.
> 
> Iwaizumi turns to bite his neck lightly, “I’m right here.”

Oikawa might be the most relieved out of everyone when Iwaizumi informs the pack that Kunimi’s heat has passed. The days apart from his mate had been brutal and anxiety inducing. Every night he’d been tormented with nightmares from his past and he’s certain once Iwaizumi starts sleeping beside him again the problem will cease.

He had tried to sleep in the Beta room last night but was kicked out. He almost considered sleeping in the pup room with Ushijima, before realizing that would just incite more nightmares of a different kind.

So when Iwaizumi steps in that morning with a small smile and gives his approving nod, Oikawa wants to drag the Omega up into their bed right then and there and catch up on some much needed sleep.

(And catch up on other things he’d missed too)

Unfortunately, Iwaizumi slaps his hands away instead and leaves to shower. He even refuses Oikawa’s offer to help. His Omega could be so rude.

Regardless, Oikawa knows what he must do next, and lets out a howl to call his pack back into the living room for another pack meeting.

He perches himself onto the arm of the couch, waiting as Matsukawa and Hanamaki sit down next to each other. Kyoutani sits on the floor, crossing his arms and already scowling. Yahaba comes in and squeezes between the two other Betas. It means Matsukawa ends up pressed against Oikawa’s leg, which is not unwelcome. Oikawa takes advantage, letting his fingers slip through his Beta’s black locks and play with the thins strands.

Kindaichi sits on the floor, holding his knees close to his chest. Oikawa waits another moment, feeling the empty spaces, before realizing Kunimi was in the tent and Iwaizumi in the shower. No one else is coming.

There’s the groan of the staircase steps dipping, and all eyes in the pack shift to take in the intruder. Ushijima stands before them—although standing is a generous term. He is leaning heavily against the banister. His neck is bandaged for modesty’s sake, and he keeps his weight off his injured leg.

Oikawa takes stock of the room immediately, as the chatter quiets and the air shifts. He can see Kyoutani’s teeth bare and his canines sharpen. Whether he realizes it or not he has leaned forward to act as a barrier between the foreign Alpha and the only pup present. Matsukawa and Hanamaki sit up, shifting their positions to provide Yahaba more cover.

Oikawa has two options.

The nagging voice of his nightmares fuel his instincts to act.

His eyes catch on the stark white bandages around Ushijima’s neck and he forces himself to relax.

That isn’t enough to dispel the tension in the air. Oikawa’s scent isn’t strong enough to do that, especially not with Kyoutani overwhelming the room. (Ushijima, for his credit, is actively reigning in his own scent.) But this has always been the case with Oikawa. He has always been able to adapt.

He stands up from his perch, putting himself between his pack and Ushijima. He places a hand on Ushijma’s shoulder, and, in an almost theatrical display, steps to the side to allow the Alpha entry.

Everyone seems surprised by this.

Ushijima most so, who’s eyes can’t help but stick to the hand resting on his person.

Oikawa smiles, “I assume you’re here to heed my call?”

“It is difficult to ignore when we are indoors,” Ushijima admits. He seems like he wants to say more but refrains. Instead, he shrugs the hand from his shoulder. Oikawa lets him and Ushijima carefully sinks down to sit on the steps of the stairs. Apart from the pack but very much still present.

This seems to appease the tension, with the Betas visibly relaxing, encouraging Kindaichi to do the same. Kyoutani is the only one who remains overtly hostile. At least he has the decency to close his mouth.

Oikawa claps his hands, “I’ve called you here for an important announcement!” He begins, smile growing as the pride builds in his chest, “Kunimi’s survived his very first heat and is ready to come home.”

Kindaichi stands up in his excitement at the news, only to quickly sit back down when everyone looks at him. His face reddens but he is practically vibrating in his spot. Hanamaki tugs his shirt collar, using it like a scruff, to urge the boy into his lap.

“A first heat can be very scary,” Oikawa continues, voice lilting as he turns his attention more directly to the pup, “And Kunimi’s been so very brave. But now that he’s done we need to show him how much we love him and how proud we are of him.”

Kindaichi nods, eyes wide and focused completely on Oikawa’s words.

Oikawa’s softens, and then shifts his gaze to Matsukawa, “Can you and Kin-chan set up the family room?”

Matsukawa nods, extending a hand to Kindaichi, who takes it quickly. The older shifter grins down at him, “Alright Kindaichi, your sacred mission is to find as many blankets as you can as _quickly_ as you can and bring them to the family room. Got it?”

Kindaichi nods vigorously, wrenching his hand preemptively from Matsukawa’s grip in order to rush up the stairs. He doesn’t even care that Ushijima sits there as a barrier. Simply squeezing past. Matsukawa follows at a much more leisurely pace, using his long legs to step right over the foreign Alpha.

“Makki and Yahaba, can you make some of Kunimi’s favorites? Don’t worry about food for the rest of us. I’ll order in.”

Hanamki gives him a salute, rolling up his sleeves. Yahaba follows him into the kitchen, seemingly relieved to have left the room.

The three Alpha’s remain.

Oikawa takes them both in, evaluating their body language and pheromones. They are both tense and silent. He turns to Kyoutani first, “Were you ever in a pack pile in your old clan?”

Kyoutani’s ears redden and he shakes his head. He keeps his gaze on the floor.

“And you?” Oikawa asks, looking over at Ushijima.

“This is barbaric.”

Oikawa nods, not deeming the rude reply worthy of a reaction. “Well then, that’s fine. You’re not really in the pack to begin with. You can stay upstairs.” With that settled he turns away to kneel down in front of Kyoutani. He wonders what Ushijima would think of that — the pack Alpha conceding ground to one of the younger Alpha’s so easily. He wishes he could see his face, but that would mean acknowledging his presence.

“Kyouken,” Oikawa starts, “I won’t force you to join in if you don’t want to. But you’re part of the pack and we’d love to have you.”

Kyoutani seems taken aback by the words, fingers digging into his arms and teeth poking out to bite his lip. He hesitates—a rare thing from Kyoutani, but then again, perhaps Oikawa is being unfair. Kyoutani has always been sensitive to the dynamics in the air. “Isn’t it dangerous?” he asks quietly.

“Do you want to hurt Kunimi?” Oikawa asks.

Kyoutani glares at him, “Of course not!”

“Then you should be fine,” Oikawa says.

“But—“

“I trust you,” Oikawa says firmly. “But, in the end, it’s up to you whether or not you trust yourself.”

Oikawa dismisses the teen to think it over, letting him slink up into his room. Ushijima stares at him, “You are playing with fire.”

Oikawa looks over at him and raises a brow.

“There is a reason why we do the things we do,” Ushijima continues, “Inviting Alpha’s so close to an unmated Omega fresh from Heat is, is absolutely disastrous.”

“There is a reason why _we_ do the things we do,” Oikawa parrots back.

Ushijima stands up, “Clinging to idealism in the face of natural reality is foolish and will lead to the end of you and your pack. Have you no sense?”

Oikawa keeps his head up, eyes lidded in contempt, “Are you saying you are so weak as to fall victim to your instincts at the scent of a young pup?” And then his eyes narrow as he steps forward. His lips peel back and he brings his teeth dangerously close to Ushijima’s neck, “If that’s the case, I do not foresee any issue in having _my_ pack tear you to shreds.”

Ushijima doesn’t back down, but his face does twist in disgust at the very insinuation being made in his direction. “With all that pride, one would thing you would have a scrap of class.”

Oikawa laughs, and his jaws snap close with a loud clack. It makes Ushijima flinch, and his legs give slightly. His grip on the banister tightens. Ushijima wants to lean forward, but he doesn’t, and instead Oikawa steps to his side to climb up the steps and out of sight.

Ushijima lets go of a breath he had been holding, and rubs the sore spot of his neck.

* * *

Iwaizumi carries a sleeping Kunimi into the house, careful to bypass the hectic living room where Matsukawa is keeping Kindaichi busy. He brings the pup up to the master bathroom where he finds Oikawa turning off the bath faucet. Iwaizumi kneels down on the bath rug and carefully sets Kunimi down in the water. Oikawa kneels beside him, nudging the sleeping boy awake.

Kunimi blinks his eyes open, sighing at the warm water against his achy little bones. Iwaizumi smiles at him, grabbing the wash cloth to clean the dirty pup. Oikawa scratches at the crown of Kunimi’s head, smiling as the boy leans into his touch. He takes his hand away only for a moment, to grab the shampoo.

The pup is too old not to be bathing himself, but a first heat is an incredibly tiring thing. The need for tactile reassurance is heightened, and it’s the little things that make the transition back to normalcy all the smoother.

Iwaizumi and Oikawa work in silent tandem, never in conflict. It’s times like these the ache in Iwaizumi’s chest becomes too much for him.

How much he loves Oikawa.

How much he loves their makeshift pack.

How much he wants _more._

How greedy he is.

Kunimi lets out a cute little sneeze and Oikawa pats his back sympathetically. The pup seems to be more aware now and Oikawa starts talking, “How are you feeling, Kunimi-chan?”

“Better,” Kunimi answers, stretching out his limbs in the water, “Tired.”

Oikawa hums, “So brave.”

Kunimi smiles lazily, closing his eyes as Oikawa massages the shampoo into his head.

“We should wash Kageyama too,” Iwaizumi murmurs.

“We can hose him off in the yard,” Oikawa replies, taking the small bucket floating in the bath to rinse suds off Kunimi’s scalp.

“Oikawa,” Iwaizumi warns.

Oikawa shakes his head, standing up and wincing as his knees crack loudly. He grabs the towel off the rack. “He’s in shift. He’ll love it.”

Iwaizumi grabs the towel from him, helping Kunimi out of the tub with his other hand, “Then you’re in charge of him, Alpha.”

Oikawa raises a brow, looking like he has something cheeky to say. Iwaizumi doesn’t give him the chance, leading Kunimi out of the room and back into the pup’s room.

Except, he isn’t able to make it out their bedroom with Oikawa suddenly grabbing his arm, “Ushiwaka’s in there.”

Iwaizumi pauses.

He had forgotten about the temporary room switch.

He hands Kunimi over to Oikawa, still wrapped in the now soggy towel. Oikawa hefts him up close and Kunimi wastes no time sinking his face into the crook of the pack Alpha’s neck. Iwaizumi leaves them.

It had only been a few days, but the room has lost its childish scent, replaced with the rusted aroma that surrounds Ushijima. The Alpha in question looks up when the door opens, and to his credit, makes the effort to reel back his pheromones.

Iwaizumi may have overestimated his ability to ignore it. He’d forgotten how potent Ushijima is. How potent most Alpha’s were. It did not help that Ushijima’s smell was not the only thing appealing about him. His strong sturdy body and his chiseled face all contributed to the instinctive watering in Iwaizumi’s mouth.

He forces himself to remember the garbage that spewed from _Ushijima’s_ mouth at a stilted yet frequent basis. The fog in his brain lessens.

“I need to grab Kunimi’s clothes,” he explains.

Ushijima nods, scooting to the side to give Iwaizumi ample room to search through the closet. Iwaizumi selects a loose shirt and shorts for the boy quickly, but can’t help asking as he leaves, “Will you be joining us?”

“I think it best I stay as immobile as possible,” Ushijima replies.

Iwaizumi snorts but doesn’t press the issue.

When he returns to his bedroom he kicks Oikawa out with the order to deal with Kageyama. He dresses Kunimi up before helping him onto the ground to test out his legs. Kunimi stumbles, hands shooting out to balance himself. Iwaizumi holds him steady by the shoulders, and after a few moments Kunimi is able to stand on his own again. Iwaizumi smiles at him.

He offers the boy his hand, and the pair head down together.

Kunimi is the one who leads them to the family room, compelled by the scent of home and love. His steps become surer and more hurried as they travel down the stairs and past the kitchen, until they burst right into the room.

Kindaichi and Matsukawa had successfully covered the room in blankets and pillows. Everyone was already lounging. The three Betas sit on the couch. Kindaichi stands to the side, fluffing one of the pillows compulsively. Oikawa has wrestled Kageyama into his lap in the corner, toweling the wet pup up as best he can. Kyoutani is even present, although he’s sequestered himself to the most isolated corner. He’s got his knees pressed close to his chest. 

Once the Omegas enter, all attention is shifted to them and Kindaichi eyes widen to the size of saucers at the return of his best friend. He’s frozen in place, fingers digging into the pillow in his grip.

Kunimi breaks the silence with a guttural whine—no hint of human in the noise. The sound is ripped from him, eyes watering at their rims and hands squeezing the hem of his shirt. He hadn’t seen his pack in so long, in _ages_ even, and the sight and smell of them is overwhelming. Like a punch in the gut, but one that felt more akin to a hug. Tears slip from his eyes at the ache that wraps around his heart.

He misses them.

The fog of his heat had forced him to forget. But now it is hits him clearly.

He misses his pack.

He misses his _family_.

He sobs, gratefully.

To everyone’s surprise, it’s Kyoutani who reacts first. One moment he is in the corner, the next he is hefting Kunimi into his arms, shushing his sobbing with a stern but understanding huff of his breath. It quiets the boy immediately, who wraps his arms around Kyoutani’s neck and buries his face into his chest. The boy is too heavy for Kyoutani, so he ends up stumbling back a bit. Hanamaki is there to catch him, helping him down on the floor.

Kindaichi is the next one to pounce, wrapping himself around Kunimi tightly, who shifts to reciprocate his best friend’s nuzzling. Kyoutani widens his embrace to let both pups in. His eyes look a bit crazed, like even _he_ is shocked at how compliant he’s being. An omega’s cry is a powerful thing.

Matsukawa and Hanamaki sink down to the ground too, joining the pile on either side. Their larger bodies make the perfect barrier from the outside world, a comforting shelter that tells the younger ones they're safe. That within this circle no harm could ever come to them.

Kunimi starts to purr instead of cry, stretching out needily to try and get his hands on everyone at once.

Kageyama finally breaks free from Oikawa’s hold, bounding on top of the pile with little grace or decorum. Although everyone shouts in surprise at his entrance, he is quickly absorbed into the tangle of limbs and love.

Yahaba keeps to the fringes, staying atop the couch, but laying down on it so he can dangle his arm into the mess, and offer Kunimi his hand to nuzzle into. The enticing pheromones have no pull on him. Besides, he’s on food duty. He needs to dash out to meet the delivery man when the food arrives.

Iwaizumi watches the sight of his pack comforting each other, bound together. Arms wrapped around one another, nuzzling necks and soft murmurs. It fills his chest with warmth and pride, so much he fears the gooey feeling will overflow through his eyes. Oikawa goes to him, despite the intense pull from the pile, wrapping his arms around his mate. Iwaizumi leans into him without reservations.

“I miss you,” Oikawa whispers into his ear, tightening his grip.

Iwaizumi turns to bite his neck lightly, “I’m right here.”

Oikawa holds back the growl in his throat, knowing it would disrupt the light atmosphere and put the pile on alert. Iwaizumi seems to sense this and eggs him on, by nibbling at the juncture of his clavicle and his neck.

“Hajime,” Oikawa warns.

“Yes, my dear Alpha?” Iwaizumi grins right back.

Something flashes in Oikawa’s eyes, hot and sudden. He trusts Matsukawa and Hanamaki to take care of everyone for the next little while, so he shoves Iwaizumi out of the room. Iwaizumi doesn’t stop him, but he does slow him down, deciding for whatever reason that this would be the best moment to bite into Oikawa’s neck with a desperate groan of his own.

Oikawa’s legs almost give out, and he has to let go of Iwaizumi to grab the banisters to keep from falling. Iwaizumi doesn’t fall, maintaining his balance and moving to mouth up Oikawa’s jaw line.

“Hajime, please,” Oikawa keens, arms shaking in their effort to support him, “Not _here_.”

Iwaizumi growls, eyes a murkier shade of green, as he claws at Oikawa’s shirt, “I need you _now_.”

“On the _stairs_?” Oikawa insists, and the absurdity of the statement curls his breath into a laugh.

Iwaizumi growls, hitting his chest lightly, “Then stop wasting time!”

Oikawa blinks, and before he can recover his strength from Iwaizumi’s previous onslaught he’s being manhandled by his mate into his arms.

Oikawa has the audacity to _giggle_ at this, and Iwaizumi wonders, deep down, why he ever fell for this buffoon. But regardless, his fingers tighten their hold around the taller man as he hurries up the steps and into their bedroom.

He dumps Oikawa unceremoniously on their bed, but before he can get on himself Oikawa has dragged im on top. And finally, _finally_ , they’re kissing properly, mouths melding, fingers grabbing and groping.

Iwaizumi rips of Oikawa’s shirt off, silencing any of his complaints with his mouth. Oikawa claws at Iwaizumi’s back but that does nothing to remove the garment. Iwaizumi has to do it himself with a growl, shedding the majority of his and his mate’s clothes.

Oikawa always manages to get out of everything, doesn’t he?

He looks down at Oikawa, eating up his disheveled hair, his reddened skin, his kiss swollen lipsand the bruising of his neck. And his eyes, his brown eyes look up at Iwaizumi reverentially, gilded in gold.

He loves him.

He does.

He buries his head into Oikawa’s neck to keep from crying from the sudden overwhelming flood of emotions. Spending days in a hotbox of heat pheromones has done numbers to his own hormones. He needs a day or two to recalibrate. But he doesn’t have time for that. He wants Oikawa and he wants him _now_.

Oikawa flips them over, using more force than necessary to pin his willing mate down into the mattress.

His hands glide over Iwaizumi’s sweaty toned chest, teasing at the trail of hair that leads him to the base of his cock. He ignores it torturously, instead tracing even lower until he can dip his fingers into Iwaizumi’s burning heat.

“You’re soaking,” Oikawa murmurs.

“No shit,” Iwaizumi growls, hitching his hips up. “Hurry up before I find someone else to fuck me.”

That does it.

Oikawa’s hands dig into Iwaizumi’s side, a fierce protective growl burning from his throat, the mere sound of it forcing Iwaizumi’s back to arch without his permission. Oikawa dips his head low, nails clawing down Iwaizumi’s hips to his thighs. Iwaizumi can’t help the way he shudders, but he does bite down on his forearm to keep his instinctive keens from escaping his gasping mouth.

Oikawa lets him for now, too preoccupied with shoving Iwaizumi’s legs to either side to give himself a better view. And what a view indeed.

He licks his lips.

Iwaizumi shoves Oikawa toward him with the leg he has hooked around his back, eyes dark and impatient. Oikawa just _grins_.

Oikawa likes to surprise Iwaizumi. Loves to catch him off guard. Because Iwaizumi enjoys being in control just as much as Oikawa, and he has never been one to back down from a fight, natures be damned. Oikawa has to prove himself worthy every time to see Iwaizumi undone. A gift not to be taken for granted.

But the easiest way to get Iwaizumi to give in is to shock him into submission.

He lets his fingers dip into Iwaizumi’s heat, keeping his resolve despite how hard Iwaizumi’s inner muscles are working to coax him in deeper. He thrusts his fingers in shallowly, making sure to scoop up and out, grazing ever so tentatively at his g-spot.

Iwaizumi writhes, leg kicking out in frustration. But he doesn’t say anything, still gagging himself with his annoying forearm. That won’t do.

Oikawa removes his hand, causing Iwaizumi to lift his head off in angry confusion. Lightning quick, Oikawa rips the forearm from Iwaizumi’s face pressing it firmly into the mattress, bent slightly back at an angle.

Iwaizumi stares at him, winded and mouth agape.

Oikawa brings his face close to his mate’s lips, mere millimeters from his own, “If it moves”— he digs his nails sharply into Iwaizumi’s arm for emphasis, bending it uncomfortably back into the mattress, “I leave you like this.”

Iwaizumi swallows, defiance still in his eyes.

Oikawa swipes his tongue over his cheek, enjoying the way Iwaizumi’s face scrunches beneath the flat of his tongue, “You keep your pretty mouth open for me.”

He sits back down between Iwaizumi’s leg, and Iwaizumi keeps the arm exactly where Oikawa left it, bent back into the mattress. It takes concentrated effort to leave it there, and Oikawa feels more blood rush to his cock at the way Iwaizumi’s arm begins to tremble in order to obey Oikawa’s command.

“ _Good boy_ ,” Oikawa can’t help but coo.

Iwaizumi looks away, flushed but silent.

With his mate looking away, Oikawa shoves all four of his fingers into his slit without preamble.

Iwaizumi _howls_ , knees pulling up only to fall back down onto the mattress, feet looking for any kind of purchase. Oikawa takes his free hand to press at Iwaizumi’s stomach, keeping him down and still as best he can. Iwaizumi is _gushing_ slick whether he wants to admit it or not, and it’s deliciously easy for Oikawa to slip his thumb in right after.

“You _really_ missed me, didn’t you Hajime?” Oikawa murmurs, forming his hand in a tight fist inside.

“Fuck, _fuck_ you,” Iwaizumi hisses, one hand straining to grip the sheets, the other still obediently bent back and _shaking_.

Oikawa hums, “You can if you want.” He eyes Iwaizumi’s cock hungrily. His own hand shy of it by an inch. He restrains himself from wrapping his fingers around it, concentrating instead on keeping Iwaizumi’s abdomen still and pressed firmly into the mattress. He moves his fist back slowly, careful of the way Iwaizumi’s body trembles and pulses around him. He pushes back in and Iwaizumi fights so hard against the hand on his stomach holding him down. He’s gasping, wet and desperate. All of him wet and desperate.

Iwaizumi shakes his head, eyes squeezed shut, “No,” he snaps, “I, Tooru, _please_.”

“You don’t want to fuck me?” Oikawa asks, voice lilting playfully higher. “You want me to fuck you?”

Iwaizumi writhes against his fist, and there are tears at the edges of his eyes, threatening to spill over. Oikawa wants to drink them up, but he’s too far away to indulge himself.

Iwaizumi arches, letting out a desperate whimper, instinctive and needy.

Oikawa thrusts into him again, further, free hand pushing down to make sure Iwaizumi can’t arch again. Instead, Iwaizumi is forced to curl upwards, his whole body spasming forward—except his arm, held captive in promise. Oikawa keeps it in his field of vision at all times.

“ _Tooru_ ,” Iwaizumi cries, and his eyes have spilt over, melting over his ruined face.

Oikawa twists his fist inside, causing another sudden shudder and ripple. Another loud howl. But this time, Iwaizumi’s hand falls down to his side.

Oikawa stops and slowly brings his unclenched hand out.

He doesn’t leave like he had threatened, instead he nudges himself up to Iwaizumi’s face to search his expression, “Too much?”

“You’re,” Iwaizumi takes in a shaky breath, voice drowned by saliva and tears, “You’re so fucking greedy.”

Oikawa smiles softly down at him, pressing a chaste kiss to his forehead. Iwaizumi blinks away more tears. Oikawa wraps his arms around his neck, “I got carried away _,”_ he murmurs, apologetic.

Iwaizumi shakes his head, his impatience rearing back up, “You still need to fuck me, asshole.”

“You sure?” Oikawa asks.

Iwaizumi growls, but with how destroyed his face looks it holds little power. Oikawa turns to kiss him, slowly and deeply, and Iwaizumi keens again, a needy noise pulled from deep within his heaving.

“I love you,” Oikawa mutters, bringing his other hand to stroke Iwaizumi’s face.

Iwaizumi pulls away from the touch, “Don’t touch me with your gross hand.”

Oikawa raises an eyebrow, and then without looking away, bring the same slick-soaked hand to his lips to lick at his dripping fingers. Iwaizumi grimaces but he doesn’t look away.

“That’s it,” Iwaizumi huffs when he can finally break away from the sight. He rolls away, “I’m getting my vibrator.”

“No!” Oikawa grabs his arm, pulling him back with an absurd laugh, “Don’t be so mean!”

Iwaizumi pulls his arms back, using the momentum to turn them over so he’s on top of his mate, “Fine. Then I’ll just use you as one,” he growls, positioning himself over Oikawa’s swollen cock without further ado.

“Where’s the fun in rushin— _oh fuck,_ ” Oikawa strains his neck, hands coming up to dig into Iwaizumi’s sides for purchase. Iwaizumi groans, his own hands resting atop Oikawa’s chest for balance. He takes in another shuddering breath as he slides himself easily all the way down.

Oikawa’s leg kicks out, unable to move much else with Iwaizumi seated atop him. Iwaizumi is so deliciously hot around him, pulsing and squeezing and slick. It’s maddening, absolutely maddening.

Iwaizumi lifts himself off only to fall right back down. He’s loose enough—thanks to Oikawa—that it’s easy to start up the hard and fast rhythm almost immediately. He’s already desperate to cum, worked up beyond belief by Oikawa’s relentless teasing, and his week of celibacy. He’s needed this release in more ways than one.

He breathes heavily, and when Oikawa finally gathers himself back together enough to start thrusting into him, he lets loose a volley of moans. He finds himself sinking, each new thrust hitting him deeper and deeper, until he can’t support himself at all anymore. He ends up with his hands pressed into the mattress on either side of Oikawa’s neck, firm chests rubbing against each other. Soon enough it’s Oikawa doing most of the work, arms wrapped around Iwaizumi’s back, squeezing tight so he can fuck into him, as if Iwaizumi is just a limp toy. An empty hole needing to be filled.

Iwaizumi drops his head into Oikawa’s shoulder and sobs. He’s a mess of tears, saliva and slick, but he still wants more, _needs_ more, even as his body gives out on him. He wants Oikawa, he wants his knot, he wants his cum, he wants his _pups_.

He cries, body stiffening as he cums against Oikawa’s stomach, slick gushing out of him. Oikawa holds him firmly, fucking into every orgasmic spasm Iwaizumi has, wave after wave. And just as Iwaizumi comes back into consciousness, he feels the swell of Oikawa’s knot catching at his rim.

Oikawa tries to pull out before it’s too late, but Iwaizumi lets out a snarl devoid of anything human, shoving back against Oikawa with whatever bit of strength he has left.

“Don’t you fucking _dare_ ,” he growls into his ear.

Oikawa gasps, claws digging into Iwaizumi’s back as he cums into him. Oikawa isn’t in rut, so his knot isn’t painfully large, just a filling thickness. They’re not stuck together, but it would still take effort to tear them apart now.

Oikawa takes in some desperate breaths once he comes down from his own orgasmic high. He shifts the pair of them, so that they can lay side by side facing each other. Iwaizumi is too tired to help. All he can muster is warning growls any time it feels as though Oikawa is trying to move completely away from him. He won’t stand for that and tightens his terribly weak grip on the Alpha.

Oikawa has the audacity to laugh at him for that, so he nips at his neck to shut him up. And then he buries his nose into the crook of him to breath him in. Coffee and mint and home and love. He feels the rumble in his chest and he’s too exhausted to silence the contented purr pouring over him.

Plus, it causes Oikawa to pull him in closer, which shouldn’t be possible since they are literally connect. But Oikawa has always managed to do the impossible.

He falls asleep in his mate’s arms almost instantaneously, safe, content, and loved.

* * *

Only one room away, a door has had every crack and gap desperately plugged by blankets and clothes. The window has been flung open. The walls are too thin.

Ushijima sits in the corner, eyes dark and hungry, biting into a pillow, _hard,_ to keep from moving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> after three months a crawl back onto ao3 to post filth. this is my first real try at a sex scene and i hope it is somewhat decent. 
> 
> i feel like i should explain my absence. October I had to write my final exam for my Master's program which took a lot out of me. November I dedicated to NaNoWriMo by writing about 40k of an Original Novel. If you're interested in that send me a message on twitter ([@findingschmomo](https://twitter.com/findingschmomo)), happy to chat about it. 
> 
> regardless, i'm back! and don't worry, I intend to finish this fic. That being said, i would appreciate knowing if people are still interested in reading LOL
> 
> comments fuel me
> 
> until next time


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yahaba is alone.
> 
> (He isn’t.)

The living room is bursting with energy, as the pack dance around each other, each focused on their own tasks. Yahaba stands in the middle, absorbing the chaos, doing his best to flow around it. Most of his focus is on Kyoutani, and keeping him at bay. Fortunately, the feeling is mutual, and Kyoutani has long since left the room.

It had been a week since the pack pile, and in that week normalcy had mostly returned to the Seijoh pack. The pups went to school. The adults went to work. Kageyama was shepherd around as necessary, refusing to shift, but never holding anyones attention long enough for them to worry about it.

Ushijima became an almost background presence—there was simply more important things to deal with. There was homework to write, houses to sell, meals to prep. Ushijima kept mostly to himself in the upstairs room, nursing his foot and keeping his mouth shut. The only lasting consequence of his presence was the diaspora of pups his squatting left.

In the end Yahaba had been the one to give up his space, dragging a futon into the Beta’s room to take over their floor. He’d been looking for an excuse to create more space between himself and Kyoutani, and the idea of forcing him to room with three excited pups was icing on the cake.

He knows they should talk about it. That his cold shoulder was excessive. Kyoutani was an idiot, and asshole, but he wasn’t malicious. His words, rough as they may be, came from a place of concern. But it was the very fact that made Yahaba’s skin crawl in a way he still couldn’t acknowledge.

“Yahaba, you sure?” Hanamaki asks, clapping the teens shoulder. Yahaba nods, sinking slightly to the side under the weight of the man’s hand as he’s brought back to the present. Right. Preparations. Focus.

Iwaizumi motions for his bag—a thick hiking bag taller than Kunimi, that could strap around a person in three places—and Yahaba gives it up obediently for Iwaizumi to triple check its contents.

Three giant water bottles, filled.

A box of granola bars with assorted flavors.

Kibble in a ziploc bag.

A blanket.

A book for class.

His portable charger.

The pups’ and Kyoutani’s closed, already rolled into their labeled sealed bags.

“Where’s your whistle?” Iwaizumi asks.

Yahaba lifts it from his neck where he has it loosely tied around. He’d never needed t use it during a Run, but it’s comforting to have it around his neck. One blow and he’d have his pack behind him.

“Good,” Iwaizumi nods. He handsback the backpack. There’s still ample room in it, which will be filled when Yahaba is charged with the rest of his family’s wardrobe.

“You sure you don’t want to Run?” Matsukawa asks, and he means well, but it’s the fifth time Yahaba’s been given the question today.

“I’m sure,” he answers, “Better for you all to have your fill.”

“Yahaba! Did you put on sunscreen?” Oikawa calls from upstairs.

“Yes!” Yahaba shouts back up.

Oikawa comes down, weilding the tube of lotion regardless. He demands to have Yahaba’s face and applies more just in case. Never mind the chillin the air and clouds in the sky. Yahaba lets him, long accustomed to the doting nonsense. Oikawa had always been like this, from the first day he found him.

“Do we have everything?” Oikawa asks, twisting the cap back on and turning away. “Where are the pups?”

“They’re in the back of the truck already shifted. Kyoutani’s with them.” Hanamaki answers, peeking through the blinds to get a visual.

“Great. Ushiwaka? You coming?” Oikawa asks, almost friendly. Ever since the conclusion of his pup’s Heat, and the reunion with his mate, he’d become all the more looser.

Ushijima did not enjoy the same luxury. Ever since their reunion and his continued stay in the room next door, he had only grown tenser. He does not know how much longer he can last without exploding, but he has no where else to go. Going on a Run seems the best option, injured leg be damned. He only had a slight limp now, and if it started to pain him he would simply stop.

“Yes,” he says, and feels no need to explain himself further.

“Alright, everyone in! We can fit five people up front, so we need one more person to shift in the back.”

“I’ll go,” Matsukawa offers, shedding off his shirt without anymore preamble, “More room back there.”

“Curse them long sexy legs,” Hanamaki sighs, offering the other Beta a tap to his ass. Matsukawa’s face twists into a lazy grin.

Ushijima looks away.

No one else seems to care.

No one else has decency.

Once nude, Matsukawa shifts into his canine form of a large black wolf, a long tangle of hair and wagging tail. Hanamaki rolls his clothes into his labeled ziploc bag, and slips it into Yahaba’s pack beside the rest.

Oikawa claps his hands, “Shall we?”

It’s an hour drive to the park.

A true oasis, really, for the pack insistent on city living. The park was part of the national registry, protected by humans. No packs could live there undetected for longterm, and so they all steered clear. But for these quick frolic, these day long races through nature to keep the wolf inside all of them happy and content, it was perfect.

They have a membership, and Oikawa simply flashes their card at the rangers before being let into the VIP parking space. Luckily, dogs are allowed on the trails, and no ranger bats an eye to the excited barking from the back of the truck.

Everyone takes a leash.

Ushijima grabs Kageyamas’, Hanamaki takes Matsukawa’s. Yahaba is quick to take Kunimi’s. Iwaizumi grabs Kindaichi, and Oikawa is left with a very annoyed and slightly hostile Kyoutani, who growls when he’s led around by another Alpha.

 _It’s what he deserves_ , is all Yahaba can really think.

Oikawa leads the group to an empty picnic table near the parking lot. Iwaizumi hands Kindaichi off to Yahaba in search of a park ranger to double check if any trails are closed. He finds out that Midori Hill and Ayamo Trail are off limits.Oikawa them crosses out on the map he’d picked it up at a kiosk.

“Okay, those are easy trails, which means traffic on the next two longest ones will be bigger than usual,” Oikawa thinks to himself, “It’s chilly though, so less attendance over all. Still, we’ll play it safe and stick to the Crater Hike.”

“Where should I be stationed?” Yahaba asks, leaning over to read the map.

“We’ll all walk the first mile together, which will lead us to the first service clearing. That should be a fine place for you to stay in, but if it’s crowded we’ll keep going.”

Yahaba nods. Kindaichi nips at Kunimi’s ear, and the two tussle anxiously, full of energy and spirit. It’s a miracle they haven’t tried to run off just from all the sounds and smells surely overtaking their young senses.

Oikawa refolds the map, handing it to Yahaba. The Beta takes it, slipping it into the pocket of his backpack until it’s taken from him entirely. He frowns at Iwaizumi, who now wears it over his broad shoulders. Iwaizumi waves him off, “You’ll have it all day. Enjoy the mile walk without the burden.”

Yahaba purses his lip.

Ushijima frowns at Iwaizumi too, glancing at Oikawa and waiting for him to say something. The pack Alpha doesn’t even _look_ at his Omega, bearing _his_ burden, instead more focused on chatting with the unshifted adult Beta. Ushijima straightens up.

“I can carry it, Iwaizumi,” he states.

Iwaizumi shakes his head, “With your bum foot? Let’s keep as much weight off that as possible.”

Ushijima bristles, “You should not have to carry it.”

“I don’t have to do anything,” Iwaizumi reminds with an easy smile, “But I want to do this.”

Ushijima pinches the bridge of his nose, but with Kageyama tugging at his leash he is forced to move forward and follow the insane family he’d somehow entangled himself with for the time being.

Kyoutani keeps Oikawa moving at an uncomfortably fast pace, pulling at his leash and sniffing wildly at everything on the ground. Luckily, the difficult trail is empty of other hikers, and there’s no one around to question the presence of so many large dogs in one group. The trail is difficult merely for it’s elevation, rising steadily against the mountainside of a large crater. But other than the slope, it is fairly well trodden. 

They almost miss the campsite with how eager Kyoutani and the pups are to run off into the woods. It’s Hanamaki, trailing in the back that calls them all to stop and double back to the trail sign. They take a sharp right and spill out into a small clearing. Two empty picnic tables sit on the dirt, one severely worse for wear, as if an excited drunk teen had jumped atop it in a drunken stupor. An outhouse is tucked away to the back, and the fact the smell there is barely noticeable to the canines gives them further comfort of the trails lack of traffic. Yahaba takes a seat on the bench attached to the functioning picnic table, releasing Kunimi from his leash but leaving the harness on him with his identification tags—God forbid someone try to take him.

With all the wolves released of their tethers, Matsukawa has to force out an actual commanding howl to keep the youths from running off. He gives Kyoutani an especially stern look, figuring the teen should know better than to dart off before everyone’s ready. Kyoutani gives a disagreeable growl back before pacing at the edge of the camp obediently.

Kageyama has decided to run laps around the clearing, boundless in his energy. Kindaichi does not want to be outmatched, and is running after him. Kunimi hasn’t budged from his seat by Yahaba’s feet, enjoying the pets his packmate is gifting him with between his ears.

Iwaizumi puts the backpack down on the bench beside Yahaba, “You sure you don’t want one of us to stick around? We can do shifts to keep you company.”

“Go Run, Iwaizumi-san,” Yahaba smiles.

Iwaizumi sighs, but nods, taking off his shirt. Yahaba has become completely desensitized to nudity at this point, watching boredly as everyone strips around him. It’s funny how Kyoutani always looks away when Iwaizumi disrobes, even after all this time. It’s cute. Or it would be, if he wasn’t still pissed at the wolf.

The adults are kind enough to fold their own clothing, slipping them into their ziplock bags and handing them to Yahaba. They all shift so easily, without a care in the world, like slipping into a well worn coat.

Yahaba isn’t jealous.

He’s not.

(He is.)

He helps put on all of their collars, other than Ushijima, who doesn’t have one to begin with. Seeing him as a wolf now is a bit startling. He is _huge_ , bigger than Iwaizumi and Matsukawa. Stocky too. Commanding. Intimidating. Oikawa looks almost scrawny compared to him, but Yahaba doubts Oikawa would appreciate the comment.

When he’s done he sits back down.

Oikawa shakes out his head, letting his leather collar catch the sun’s ray. He paws at the ground, his own anticipation and excitement apparent in his jittery movement. And then he throws his head back and howls, loud and proud, and the rest of the pack—even little Kageyama and stubborn Kyoutani—are forced to bellow alongside him.

Hell, even Yahaba feels his neck instinctively tip back, although his human vocal cords remain still.

Ushijima makes no sound.

Before the howl fades away, Oikawa starts the sprint, jumping straight into the underbrush, and in a flash the rest of the wolves have followed him out of sight.

Yahaba is alone.

(He isn’t.)

* * *

It has been too long since Ushijima has felt free like this. He had taken this feeling for granted. The territory that Shiratorizawa called home, the main heart of it, was wild and untamed, and meant that the pack was free to shift at their leisure. To neglect the wolf inside was to try to split yourself in two. Painful and unnecessary. Incomprehensible. Insane.

The Shiratorizawa Territory comprised of the pack family house, a large traditional home out in the countryside, far from any main road and with a winding thin drive way that went for almost a mile. Surrounding it were hundreds of acres of land, all owned under the same deed that the pack held. Plots were divvied up to the main pack families, communal farmland took up most of the rest, and all together it was a simple and perfect set up for generations.

Perhaps too many generations.

Ushijima runs faster, trying to focus on the present rather than the politics back home. Regardless, running as wolf is a reminder of the last time he had run like this, when he was running _away,_ desperate in the night. The phantom acrid scent of burnt flesh stings his nostrils, the shrill cries and pained whines of the long dead cling to his ears. The sight of a young pup screaming and weeping over his burning mother, and the barred teeth appearing right at his neck seared into his eyes.

He shakes his head, trying to clear the horrid fog from his mind, shifting his trajectory so that he runs just behind Kageyama’s spritely body. Reminding himself that the boy is fine, happy even. The young pup had even grown since they’d first joined this insane pack.

Joined is the wrong word.

Regardless, the boy had filled out—his ribs were no longer so pronounced, and the sheen of his dark coat was glossy and well groomed. He looks nothing like the scrap Ushijima had found in the carnage, the shivering husk he’d managed to hide away from the cull in a moment of ill fated weakness.

Not weakness.

He had done the right thing.

He has to tell himself that.

If he didn’t, the shame would be too much, the betrayal too stinging. He had staked everything on the decision, and although he had yet to face his fathersince, he knows if he did he would lose everything again.

At least in this limbo he could pretend he had somewhere to return home to. A glorious Shiratorizawa of years past, before the drought and famine, before the desperation, before the new ideas poisoned the well.

He winces, a burn forming in his back leg, forcing him to slow down his aggressive pace. His leg is still not up for a run at this caliber. Kageyama pays him no mind, happy to keep racing the other pups. They overtake each other again and again as they swerve around trees and bushes.

As Ushijima slows down his pace, his senses starts to expand to take in his surroundings. He had simply been following the pack mindlessly, trusting them not to lead him astray—which was foolish of him. He had grown soft in his pseudo-imprisonment.

Although Oikawa had lead the start of the run, Ushijma can now see he no longer holds that position. Instead, Kyoutani, the one respectful—albeit immature—Alpha of the makeshift assortment of wolves is now leading the charge. He runs handsomely, muscles rippling under his tan fur, dark markings splotched across his pelt in an erratic blur. He leaps over roots, twists through underbrush, and keeps a good commanding pace that does not overwhelm the pups but captors their attention.

At his heels are the young ones. Kindaichi and Kageyama are locked in a dance for second place while Kunimi weaves around them to keep at their pace.

Ushijima is forced to slow even more, as his foot catches on a rock and flashes another hot bolt of pain through his system. Because of this, the Betas overtake him, their run smooth and in tandem, their pace comfortable yet enough to exhilarate and keep them within eyesight of the pups.

Ushijima is forced to stop.

He takes in a deep heaving breath, sitting down and turning to gnaw at his injured foot. He flinches, feeling the soreness of his tendon, but assessing he hasn’t fractured the bone again. He shakes the limb out and lets his hackles lower.

It is quiet now, the pack having left him behind. Now he is met with the rustle of the forest. A calm overtakes him, and he opens his mouth to drink in the scents. There is a herd of deer to the west, a couple of squirrels above him, and a chipmunk desperate not to grab his attention. There is water nearby, rushing over rocks and down, sweet and clean and only just a few leaps East of him.

There are wolves.

He opens his eyes and sees Oikawa and Iwaizumi making their way toward him. They are not running anymore. They simply pad along the forest floor, chattering to each other, sides pressed tightly against one another, tails high and tangled every so often—as if neither was born with any semblance of shame. Ushijima looks away, the creek he can sense so close becoming all the more tantalizing to his parched throat.

The pair pause before him, and it is Iwaizumi who separates from his mate to enter Ushijima’s space.

Iwaizumi is a handsome wolf. His pelt is dark, almost pure black, like a moonless sky. Like staring into a void that stares back with bright green eyes. Compelling. Inviting. Ushijima swallows, unable to look away and fighting all the instincts at odds within him. Iwaizumi is muscular and large, not as tall as Oikawa or himself, but much stockier than the former. He is imposing, with large paws and strong claws that scrape against the forest floor.

 _But he is an Omega_ , Ushijima reminds himself.

But then he tries _not_ to remember, because it makes the need to send off his pheromones all the more desperate. To show off. To dominate. To subdue. To claim.

But perhaps it’s better to focus on that than on Oikawa, who hangs back curiously. Because the need to scent mark Oikawa is even more disgusting. He _knows_ Oikawa is an Alpha, like him, but apparently it’s not enough to stem the need to have him. The need that quickens his pulse and floods his mouth with saliva.

Oikawa doesn’t even have a scent strong enough to captivate him. Neither of the anomalies before him do. But Oikawa is mesmerizingly beautiful. Thin but muscled, tall and graceful, all the hues of a strong oak tree embroidered in his fur. How Ushijima longs to sink his teeth into the nape of his neck, to feel Oikawa’s pulse under his tongue. To hear his keens and whines, the ones he’s been forced to hear almost every night this past week.

He is hungry.

He is starving.

But it does not make sense.

Oikawa is useless to him. Unbreedable. Unmateable. And Iwaizumi has been claimed, and he should respect that.

But sitting in front of their shared gaze, the entire forest held in their green and brown eyes, Ushijima can’t help but salivate behind his gritted teeth and tightly closed lips.

“Are you good?” Iwaizumi asks, tilting his head slightly. A cute gesture. But also, to Ushijima’s hungry eyes, a coaxing one. A flex ofhis neck, covered barely by his slim leather collar. Ushijima’s claws dig into the ground.

Oikawa gives him a raised eyebrow, padding forward to press against his mate almost knowingly. He keeps Ushijima pinned with his stare, and Ushijima wants to growl and whine, deciding to do neither and instead look away.

“My leg,” he answers roughly.

Iwaizumi has no self preservation. He is an absurd Omega, with no good sense and too much confidence. He steps right into him, leaning his head down to sniff at his injured leg. Ushijima bristles, doing his best to reign in his scent, less the pair get the wrong idea again.

Iwaizumi pays his suffering no mind and gives his foot a long lick. Ushijima shudders, pulling his foot back. Iwaizumi blinks, “It hurts that bad?”

“No,” Ushijima replies, but he does not relax his foot back.

Something glints in Oikawa’s eyes and he slides forward, pressing disgustingly close to his mate. He practically mounts him, front paws coming on either side of him with the excuse to look over Iwaizumi’s shoulder. Iwaizumi doesn’t even react.

They are insane.

Ushijima has to open his mouth to pant. It’s getting much too warm with the other wolves so close to him. He hates this. He hates them.

“Are you that out of breath?” Iwaizumi probes, coming even closer and Ushijma can’t help but wonder if he is doing this on purpose. He knows for certain Oikawa is, with his piercing brown gaze, and the way he pushes forward, forcing Iwaizumi to lean even closer into Ushijima.

“Why so nervous, Ushiwaka-chan?” Oikawa purrs, and Iwaizumi seems to react to that, shuddering from the way the vibrations from Oikawa’s chest press into his back.

Ushijima glares, having enough, the coil in his stomach so tight he might just break in half, “Why are you doing this again?”

Oikawa stops, like Ushijima had spat right in his face, and steps away completely. Iwaizumi shakes out his fur, as if finally realizing just how close Oikawa was.

“Sorry,” Oikawa mutters, and he looks…ashamed almost. Like he hadn’t meant what he was doing. But Ushijima had seen the look in his eyes, the black hunger, the keen need. His remorse made no sense.

“So why do it again?” Ushijima snaps, trying to hide the flutter in his stomach.

Oikawa doesn’t look at him, instead glaring at the ground and scraping his paw against the coarse dirt. He growls through his clenched teeth, tail wagging back and forth aggressively, “I…I don’t know.”

Ushijima squints at him, straightening up to his full height, trying to grab back some of his dignity from the stagnant air. He decides to let his scent roam. At the end of the day, he will always have that upper hand.

Oikawa looks over at him, “Stop it.”

Ushijima doesn’t.

Oikawa bares his teeth, swishing his tail, “I don’t get you, Ushiwaka.” He steps toward him, eyes trained on Ushijima’s golden gaze.

“The feeling is mutual,” Ushijima snaps back, rising up to circle him.

Iwaizumi takes a small step back from the hostile Alphas.

“What do you want from us?” Oikawa snaps, “Why are you still here?”

“Why do you keep me?” Ushijima counters right back.

Oikawa grimaces, and as Ushijima’s scent continues to grow, pushing at him to stand down, he instinctively finds himself stilling his pacing so he remains in front of Iwaizumi, as if his body could shield him from the aroma. A good Alpha would be able to do that. Could easily negate the pheromones of a rival.

But _he_ couldn’t. Because he wasn’t a good Alpha. He’d been born wrong.

But he could still _try_.

He could still use his words, like a scent soaked weapon. Bile rises in him and he unleashes, lips peeled all the way back, “One second, you want to fuck us, the next you can’t stand us, and then the next you want to _be_ fucked. Well, which is it?”

Ushijima stops dead in his tracks.

Even Iwaizumi is taken aback by the crudeness of Oikawa’s words. It is not what he normally hears from his eloquent mate. His ears shift back warily and he tries to step between them, but Oikawa keeps him at bay.

Ushijima snarls, tail lashing behind him, “Your insanity is contagious.”

“Is that what you have to tell yousrelf?” Oikawa continues, emboldened by the rage he sees in Ushijima’s eyes, “Why don’t you admit you _want_ to be a bitch in heat for me? For _us_?” Oikawa slinks forward, teeth bared, canines sharp, “Tell me Ushiwaka, and maybe we can grant your wish. Do you want me to fuck you? Right here in the dirt? Or, is your fantasy even dirtier?” he lowers his voice, eyes dark slits as they peer straight through Ushijima’s snarling face, “Do you want to be bent over by an Omega? Do you want Hajime to fuck you out, want to be _even_ _lower_ than a bitch lost to their heat?”

“Oikawa!” Iwaizumi shouts, swiping at him, letting his claws dig at Oikawa’s shoulder and reigning him back. Oikawa hisses out in pain, forced to retreat, especially when Iwaizumi doesn’t let him go, nails carving into him tightly, “What the _fuck_ is wrong with you?”

“Can’t you smell him,” Oikawa snaps, trying to pull away without ruining his shoulder, “He’s stinks of a pseudo-rut right now. _Disgusting._ ”

Iwaizumi releases his grip, but his anger doesn’t abade, nor does he even spare Ushijima a glance to confirm the accusation, “I don’t give a shit about that. Is that what you really think?”

Oikawa takes a step back, wincing against his shoulder, realizing his mistake, “I was just, talking dirty, is all, Iwa-chan,” he says quickly, ears flicking back almost submissively, “Don’t be, don’t be so sensitive—”

“Don’t be so sensitive?” Iwaizumi repeats, hair standing on end, so that he looks almost twice his size, “Well, isn’t that just my nature? Us bitches lost in their heat?”

“Hajime, you _know_ I don’t—”

“But do you want to?” Iwaizumi continues, poison bubbling at his mouth, “Is that _your_ fantasy?”

Oikawa stares at him, “How can you say that?”

“How could _you_ say that?” Iwaizumi snarls, “Twice—no practically three times now you felt it fine to try to whore me out for one of your Alpha fantasies. I do not wear your chain, Tooru. I never will.”

“I don’t want you to!” Oikawa howls back, stomping downon one of his paws.

But Iwaizumi is angry. Furious. Seething. And the adrenaline in his legs carries him away, back into the forest and out of sight. Oikawa snarls at the ground, swiping at a stray root and watching it splinter under the force of his paw. He swivels onto Ushijima, “This is your fault!”

“No,” Ushijima says, “This is your true ambition bubbling to the surface.” He stands up, feeling vindicated, “This is what happens when you play with nature. It makes everything confusing and unstable. It makes the pack miserable.”

“I can’t _stand_ you,” Oikawa shrieks, “You are everything I hate, have _ever_ hated.”

“I pity you,” Ushijima says.

Oikawa’s face twistes into a horrendous painting, almost human in its expression, and then he too is gone, chasing after his equally pitiful mate.

Ushijima lets out a long breath, pressing his head into the ground to try to clear his muddied thoughts. His own paws claw at the earth, tearing it apart. Despite his confidence at the end, Oikawa’s words had shaken him to his core. Because he was right.

And it _disgusts_ him to acknowledge it.

* * *

Yahaba doesn’t notice the presence at first. But after a few hours, another hiker ventures into the clearing. He sports a heaving backpack and a stripe of white sunscreen along his nose. His hair is like fire atop the crown of his head, and he gives Yahaba a wave and lopsided smile when they make eye contact.

“Mind if I share the bench with you?” the man asks, but does not wait for an answer. Yahaba scurries to the side to give him room. There is a whole other picnic table to lounge upon, but he can’t blame the man for ignoring it. It lacks any kind of structural integrity.

“Tough trail, huh?” the man offers, leaning forward to dig through his pack. He pulls out a water bottle, gulping it down messily and letting out a noisy moan of appreciation.

Yahaba tries to hide his grimace, folding down the corner of the page he’d been reading and setting his book aside. He hums, “Yeah.”

“Tendou,” the man introduces, flashing his wide—almost too wide—grin, “Tendou Satori.” He thrusts a hand into Yahaba’s face.

Yahaba hesitates, but takes it, shaking it as firmly as he can, “Yahaba Shigeru.”

Tendou nods, smile ever present, “You in these woods by yourself?”

Yahaba’s skin prickles at the odd question, at the odd man. “No,” he says carefully, “My family went on ahead.” He then adds quickly, “They’ll be back soon.”

Tendou lets out a whistle ofa breath, “That’s nice. I tried to get my family to come out with me, but none of them wanted to come out in the cold air. Must be nice.” He stretches out his arms, and each joint crackles in the space between them, “Whatcha reading?”

Yahaba glances down at his lap, “School reading.”

“Pity,” Tendou hums, twisting his shoulders to have them pop too. Each noise makes Yahaba flinch in disgust, but he tries to hide it. Tendou doesn’t seem to notice it, “Do you have a dog?”

Yahaba glances at the leash spilling out of his bag, “Uh, yeah. He’s with my family.”

“Unleashed?”

“He’s well trained.”

“Cool, what kind of dog?”

“Uh,” Yahaba thinks, “He’s uh…a bit of everything.”

Tendou laughs, and maybe the man is just overly friendly? Yahaba tries to relax his shoulders. He doesn’t _seem_ like a serial killer.

“What’s the mutt’s name?”

Yahaba hesitates, “Kyouken…Yeah.”

“You named your dog Mad Dog?” Tendou repeats.

Yahaba nods, watching as the man descends into a roaring cackle, “That’s amazing! I can picture him! A gremlin of a dog! But you love him anyway.”

Yahaba softens, finding the statement to encapsulate Kyoutani quite well, whether shifted or not, “Yeah…pretty much,” he smiles.

Tendou quiets down, “My family just moved to the area. Well, not this area, I guess. We’re like an hour or so away, in Miyagi. But this was the closest hiking trail I could find. Rough bus ride, but so far worth it.”

Yahaba blinks, “Oh wow,” he murmurs, turning toward him, “That must have been what, two hours?”

“Yeah, just about,” Tendou nods. “Are you from there too?”

Yahaba nods, “Yeah.”

“I’m right next to Yukigaoka High.” Tendou continues, kicking his feet up. He slips his phone out of his pocket, responding to a text.

“Oh, I go there,” Yahaba exclaims before thinking better of it.

Tendou’s eyes shine, “That’s crazy! Funny finding you here in the woods, huh?”

Yahaba smiles sheepishly, “Pretty crazy.”

Tendou grins, but then he stands up, bending town to his toes to release more cracks throughout his back. He jumps back to attention, “Well, best be off to finish the trail before it gets dark. Maybe I’ll see you on the way back!”

Yahaba waves him off as he goes, visibly relaxing once the stranger is out of sight. And then he chides himself for it. He had just been a friendly man, in need of company for the briefest of moments. He turns back to his book.

It takes maybe another half hour before his pack trails back into the clearing. The Betas first, each with a pup slung over their back, and Matsukawa dangling a passed out Kageyama by his scruff from his mouth.

Kyoutani steps in next, panting and sated.

Yahaba welcomes their presence after the unnerving encounter, feeling safe again amongst their numbers. He doesn’t even mind when Kyoutani ventures toward him to sniff at him. In fact, he leans into it, taking the apology. Hours alone for a shifter, even a poor excuse of a shifter like himself, took a toll. He needed his pack. Each and every one of them. He gives Kyoutani a forgiving pet.

A gremlin ofa dog for sure, but he still loves him.

Kyoutani wags his tail at the pet. Almost leaping into his lap. His scenting seems a bit more forceful than necessary. Maybe he had smelled something in the forest that had spooked him. Or maybe he was simply excited to be back in Yahaba’s good graces.

Yahaba giggles when Kyoutani licks his neck and shoes him away. Kyoutani acquiesces to sitting in front of him, almost as if on guard, ear pricked and at attention.

It takes a bit longer for the last three wolves too appear, and when they do the air becomes tenser. Iwaizumi insists on staying shifted and riding home in the back with Kyoutani and the sleeping pups.

It’s so tense inside the truck between the two Alphas that Yahaba forgets the weird encounter completely.

He mentions nothing.

It probably didn’t matter anyway.

(It does.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ah, the plot seems to finally be thickening
> 
> oiks needs to go home and wash his mouth out with soap
> 
> until next time
> 
> comments fuel me


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iwaizumi shakes his head, and now he does look terrified. Like something he’d known all his life had suddenly been ripped from him. Like his last tether to the world had finally been snapped, “You want to chain me?”
> 
> Oikawa can feel how the entire audience, their entire pack—their entire world—is watching them, scrutinizing them, enjoying the two failures of the commune fumble before them.
> 
> “I have to,” he snaps, his shoulders rising up.

Oikawa wipes the sweat from his brow. His back aches from the angle he is hunched and his fingers throb around the chisel’s thin grip. He can’t show it though, not with her watching.

The other Alphas are long gone, all having managed their time better, all having done what was asked of them obediently. All having done their duty as Alphas of Kitagawa Daichi.

What poor excuse would still be working the night before their first ceremony?

Oikawa had always been the poor excuse for an Alpha. The tell tale example of what not to be.

He can feel her cold stare at the nape of his neck, right where his sweat beads and bleeds down his bare spine. He knows that the ache of the chisel is nothing compared to the burn of the lash. He can not show her his growing weariness.

He is almost done.

The chain he is making is thinner than the others in his year. Slimmer. The links are woven tightly together leaving no gaps for any air. Along this canvas he melts in a pattern of vines. Dainty. Unnecessary. _Pretty_ , he insists.

He still hasn’t carved his name.

He doesn’t want to.

“Tooru.”

He stops, looking over at the Pack Alpha.

He had reasons for taking so long. He’d continuously ditched metalworking in favor of spending time with Iwaizumi, of teaching him lessons from class, of watching him work, of simply being there beside him.

He has no regrets.

“You’re picking him, aren’t you?”

Oikawa’s fascination with the brutish Omega is no secret in the commune. At any event that allowed the supervised mixing of the young, they clung to each other like honey and hive. He doubts Kitagawa-san is as unaware of his nightly meetings as she acts.

He swallows, “Yes.”

“What a waste,” she sighs, coming forward, “Although it makes sense for the weak to gravitate together. I’m sure you won’t have any competition tomorrow to deal with.”

Oikawa knows that too. It relieves and upsets him. No one will stand for Iwaizumi’s neck but him, and it is a great shame the other Alpha’s don’t see the beauty in Iwaizumi’s green eyes.

Kitagawa-san takes his chain from his anvil. She snorts and Oikawa’s face colors in shame. “Do you think an oaf like him could be held by such weak silver?”

Oikawa squeezes his fingers into his palms, speaking to the floor he kneels on, “He won’t pull away.”

“Oh, Tooru. This chain would bind no one to you. How would your Omega trust you to protect them? When you can’t even chain them down?’

Oikawa bites his lip. _He trusts me, and I trust him_ , he wants to say, _that is how we will be bound._ He can’t say that though. Not to her. “I can protect him,” he replies quietly.

Kitagawa-san actually laughs, dropping his year’s work to the ground like trash. He doesn’t move to grab it.

The smell of her is overwhelming now, forcing him to curl inward on himself. It’s the reaction she wants. His back forms a stool for her to rest a foot on. Her weight forces him even lower into the cold concrete, and he grits his teeth.

“I look forward to the embarrassment of you both fumbling during the ceremony.” She steps back to kick him in the ribs. He winces, but is grateful. Bruises are much less work than open wounds.

He waits a longtime before unfurling. Several minutes, at least, in the cold darkness alone. He waits to be sure. Then he unfolds, taking his chain and stuffing it into his pocket before stumbling out of the metalworking warehouse.

He longs to see Iwaizumi but knows he can’t.

The next day shifts into focus, unnaturally quickly. Time seems to speed before slowing down considerably when he realizes he’s _at_ the ceremony. He is sitting in his chair, metal chain tucked inside his jacket, pressed tightly with the other restless foul smelling Alphas. This is his first year able to participate, old enough to vy for a mate against all the other Alphas in the pack.

The Omegas ready for betrothal are lining up on stage. They’re all pretty, dressed in long flowing white tunics or dresses. Each with dark blue stitching along the hems.

Iwaizumi is at the edge of the line, his ears burning as he glares at the ground.

The doors close.

There is a roar in the Alpha crowd that prickles Oikawa’s skin. Hot, excited, _hungry_.

There is confusion among the Omegas before them and Oikawa manages to lock eyes with Iwaizumi’s.

He feels the chain at his breast burn at the skin over his heart when he realizes.

The Omegas don’t _know_.

Whatever they had been told, was a lie. Or maybe some sort of rosy version of the betrothal ceremony. Oikawa wishes he had pushed back against Iwaizumi’s dismissal of the subject, his constant annoyed denial to explore it.

 _I already know, let’s not talk about it_ , Iwaizumi had always groaned.

Oikawa had figure he was just rightfully embarrassed about the spectacle.

The sound of so many Alphas, the _smell_ of them trapped in this auditorium, must be overwhelming to Omegas used to being on their side of the commune. He can’t blame them for their wide skittish eyes. Is that why Kitagawa-san seperates them so strictly? To witness this fear? Palpable in the air?

It’s worse than fear.

Iwaizumi looks _terrified._

Oikawa wants to go to him. Wants to leave his seat in a rush and protect him. Isn’t that what he said he would do?

The first Omega is called to step forward, a girl his age, who’s tied her hair up so prettily for the occasion. She looks unsure, and that adds to her virgin charm. Maybe that was also the point of the deception?

Oikawa feels nauseous.

“Your Betrothal Band?” the Omega Matron of Iwaizumi’s class prompts from her place MCing the stage.

The girl fumbles, red in the face as she takes from her long tunic pocket the necklace she had slaved over for the past year. Woven together with fine silk threads. She has dyed it to be a rich royal purple with accents of rose and red. She had even sewn in beads. It is beautiful, if not a bit flashy for Oikawa’s own tastes. He can still appreciate the workmanship.

She looks confused still, as she holds the band. Does she not know what it’s for? What had they been told?

Oikawa looks to Iwaizumi, sees he too has taken out his Betrothal Band. He had kept it secret from him, constantly stowing it away before Oikawa could get a good look at it. But now he can see it in his tight trembling grip.

A thin band of pure white silk, a light teal woven through in a pattern not unlike the vines he’d carved into his chain.

It’s Oikawa’s favorite color.

It’s the pattern Oikawa had drawn all over all his notebooks, that Iwaizumi would pour over during their lessons.

The band was made for him.

Oikawa clutches his mouth for fear he might throw up right there.

Is that what the Omega’s were told? That the band was for the Alphas to wear?

“Take your band,” the Matron is saying, her voice a false timber of kindness as she guides the shaking girl, “And put your trust into it, into the Alpha that will take you.”

The girl nods, because what else can she do, put on the spot in front of everyone?

The Matron smiles, “Love is blind.”

The girl’s breath hitches, staring at the wave of Alphas and their steadily growing scent. Her knees seem to be shaking, but she grasps quickly what is being asked of her. She dips her head down, bites her lip, and ties the band around her eyes so she can no longer see.

Around Oikawa differen’t Alpha’s suddenly jump up from their seats. Oikawa tries to shrink down further. There is shouting and snarling, the bearing of teeth. Oikawa isn’t watching, but he can smell the first drops of blood being shed.

He refuses to watch.

Finally, one Alpha makes it to the stage. She is older than Oikawa’s class. But not old enough for her hair to gray. She grins to the crowd, predatory and victorious. She puts her hands around the young Omega’s head, tugging in one fluid motion so the band no longer blinds her, but rests loosely around her neck.

The Omega gasps, flushed and shaken, but there is gratitude in her eyes. The Alpha tightens the band so it collars the girl’s neck now. She turns the collar so that the little silver ring sewn into all Betrothal Bands sits at the front. She shackles the Omega with her long heavy chain, smiling wider when the young girl’s head is forced to dip down lower at the new weight.

She is led off the stage.

The next Omega is called.

And the next. And the next.

It goes faster now. The shock is gone. Resignation tastes stale and sad in the air. Only one Omega cries, the wet spots growing on his blindfold like black blood as he hears the shouts and violence of the vying Alphas.

Oikawa wants to leave.

Iwaizumi is called up.

Iwaizumi is red. But he does not look terrified anymore. He is angry. Seething. Hateful. He refuses to blind himself with the crumbled band in his hand that he must have worked so hard on. The Matron even shouts at him, loosing her veneer of decorum, but he does not budge. There is sneering from the crowd. Someone jeers. Another boos.

“No one will want you anyway,” The Matron finally growls out in her own embarrassed anger. There is a swell of laughing agreement in the crowd.

Oikawa stands up.

He too is red. Shamed but persistent.

Apparently, his standing is deserving of louder laughter and a couple of isolated claps. His ears burn. There are tears at the edges of his eyes. Someone makes the old joke he’d heard a variation of all his life, “Why isn’t _he_ on that stage? I’d bid!”

He marches straight up to Iwaizumi, untested by any of the other Alphas.

Close up now it is hard to ignore Iwaizumi’s shaking, his mortification building up his pheromones enough to make them actually present. They are noxious with terror. Oikawa wants nothing but to soothe him. He doesn’t know how.

He can feel Kitagawa-san watching him from her place upon the stage, sitting in her elevated chair. Sneering. Celebrating her correct prediction.

He doesn’t want to give her this satisfaction. He can still save face.

“Put the band around your neck,” Oikawa hisses.

“What?” Iwaizumi says.

Oikawa takes the chain from his pocket. Iwaizumi eyes squint when it reflects light straight into his eyes.

“Once I chain you we can get out of here,” Oikawa explains quickly.

Iwaizumi shakes his head, and now he _does_ look terrified. Like something he’d known all his life had suddenly been ripped from him. Like his last tether to the world had finally been snapped, “You want to chain me?”

Oikawa can feel how the entire audience, their entire pack—their entire world—is watching them, scrutinizing them, enjoying the two failures of the commune fumble before them.

“I have to,” he snaps, his shoulders rising up.

Iwaizumi takes a physical step back, and that earns a raucous of laughter from the audience. “Rejected by the ugliest Omega we have!” some asshole shouts.

“Iwa-chan—”

Iwaizumi is shaking his head, saying loudly, too loudly “I’m not wearing your chain. I’m not wearing anyone’s chain. I’m not—”

Kitagawa-san appears at their side, grabbing Iwaizumi by the scruff of his neck and shoving him down.

Oikawa screams that he didn’t mean it. But Kitagawa-san takes out her whip from the holster of her hip, regardless. There are claps from the crowd, at the fresh entertainment.

Iwaizumi screams when he the first lash hits him and Oikawa breaks.

* * *

Oikawa wakes up, eyes wild as he leaps to his feet. His chest heaves, and he doubles over, hands splaying out on the coffee table next to the couch. He gasps, letting out a pained keen.

It was a dream.

Just a dream.

It wasn’t.

It was a memory. Vivid no matter the number of years behind him, vivid and haunting and shameful, reignited by Iwaizumi’s resurfaced doubt from the Run the day before.

Oikawa takes in another gasp of air, chocking at the salty tears that flood his mouth. He wipes at his eyes, trying to stand back up.

He needs water.

He needs Iwaizumi.

It is still dark in the night as he stumbles to the kitchen. In lieu of grabbing a cup he merely dunks his head into the sink, lapping at the water flowing from the faucet, like the terrified wolf inside him would want.

It’s not enough.

He can still feel Kitagawa-san at the nape of his neck. He can still hear the betrayal in Iwaizumi’s voice. He heard it again yesterday. It is fresh. It is cutting.

He can’t stop shaking. His gasping breaths don’t settle. His arms are beginning to numb.

Fight be damned.

He hurries up the stairs, scurrying almost on all fours by the time he reaches the upper landing. He creaks open the master bedroom door and closes it behind him. Iwaizumi stirs from the bed, but Oikawa has to physically touch him to rouse him up.

Iwaizumi pulls back, dazed, and when his eyes adjust to the darkness he snarls, “I told you to sleep on the couch.”

Oikawa opens his mouth, but his throat has closed to a pinprick, and all he can manage is a desperate wheeze and a horrid sob. Iwaizumi’s eyes widen, and he rushes forward, anger lost in the sudden whirlwind of worry, “What’s wrong?”

Oikawa grabs him, shoves his face into the crook of Iwaizumi’s neck and breathes him in. He shakes uncontrollably, even as Iwaizumi envelopes him in his arms, tugging him close and into his lap.

“Tooru, what’s wrong?” Iwaizumi asks, and there’s a hitch in his breath. Scared.

Oikawa doesn’t want him to be scared.

“I’m _sorry_ ,” Oikawa whispers wetly.

“Tooru—”

“I had-” he hiccups, lurching slightly as his breath quickens, “I had another nightmare.”

Iwaizumi tenses, “Kitagawa-san?”

Oikawa nods, shuddering, “The ceremony.”

Iwaizumi loosens, the terror replaced simply with concern now that the cause is known. He runs soothing circles over Oikawa’s back, “It’s over.”

Oikawa pulls back, “I made you relive it,” he wipes at his face, Iwaizumi’s scent doing wonders to the beat of his heart. He still has to take in several breaths between words, but his mouth is not flooded with saliva and tears, “I made you relive it, yesterday, didn’t I?”

Iwaizumi sighs.

“I’m so sorry, Hajime,” Oikawa weeps, “Please, you have to believe me when I say, when I say, I would _never_ —”

Iwaizumi pulls him back into a hug, shoving his mate’s face into his chest, effectively gagging him with the fabric of his shirt, “We’ll talk in the morning.”

Oikawa spasms, tightening his grip around Iwaizumi. The Omega doesn’t let him go.

“I love you,” Oikawa murmurs, unable to follow the command. He nestles his face right between Iwaizumi’s strong pecs, feeling like a pathetic pup in need of the mother he never knew.

What a sorry excuse for an Alpha he truly is.

“Tooru,” Iwaizumi sighs, carding fingers through his hair, “You’re fine.”

“I’m sorry,” Oikawa repeats, “That I’m like this.”

Iwaizumi brings him up to his face, and claps his cheeks, hard, “Stop that.”

“Look at me,” Oikawa hisses, snotty and gross, his face still sandwiched between Iwaizumi’s warm palms, “I’m sniveling like an unweaned pup. Pathetic.”

“I agree you’re an ugly crier,” Iwaizumi replies, rubbing at the track of tears spilling down his cheek with his thumb, “But don’t act like you’re alone through all this. Look at the pack you’ve made. You’re strong, Oikawa, stronger than anyone I know. And you have all our strength behind you too.”

Oikawa nuzzles into Iwaizumi’s neck, rubbing their glands together. Iwaizumi opens up instinctively, the soothing effect mutual. Oikawa sighs, his breathing finally returning to some semblance of normalcy, having been pulled back from the precipice of panic.

He kisses at Iwaizumi’s neck and Iwaizumi must be exhausted, because he lets out a low rumble of a purr without any fighting.

Still, Oikawa feels the itch of insecurity, so he can’t help but say, half joking, “Ushiwaka’s stronger than me.”

Iwaizumi snorts, “You’re stronger of mind.”

“Have you seen his _muscles_ ,” Oikawa whines, “Unfair.”

Iwaizumi hums.

“Why is he so hot?” Oikawa continues with a huff.

“You are obsessed,” Iwaizumi mutters, “And I’m still upset with you.”

“I know,” Oikawa concedes, pulling slightly away, “And I’m not. Obsessed.”

Iwaizumi raises a tired eyebrow, “He’s all you talk about.”

“He is not.”

Iwaizumi sits up in bed, apparently roused up by the new topic and the fact Oikawa is no longer drowning him in his soothing scent, “I’ve never seen you talk so filthy. He turns you on. Admit it.”

Oikawa sits too, and now his face twists into a scowl. The effect is lessened by the fact his eyes are rimmed red, and his nose still leaks. “He does not!”

Iwaizumi smiles, leaning back a bit onto the headboard, “I know you better than you know yourself. You like the idea of being on top of him.”

Oikawa feels himself redden slightly, tilting his chin up. He knows what Iwaizumi is doing. Egging him on, distracting him, so that the spindly webs of the dream still in the air are swept away by this silliness.

“That’s just an Alpha thing,” Oikawa insists.

“I didn’t know Alpha’s desired to fuck each other.”

Oikawa bristles, “I don’t want that.”

“No,” Iwaizumi muses, distaste appearing at his tongue, “You want _me_ to fuck him.”

Oikawa looks away, his flush burning hotter, “It’s…poetic, in a way, don’t you think?”

“I’d rather see you two go at it,” Iwaizumi huffs, before realizing he may have said too much.

Oikawa blinks, “You do?”

“Don’t act so surprised,” Iwaizumi snaps, annoyance grasping at his tone, “Any mate wants to see their Alpha on top.”

Oikawa purrs, sinking back down in the bed. Iwaizumi looks away. “This isn’t me encouraging you.”

“I know,” Oikawa says, fingers straying to play with Iwaizumi’s hand, “Don’t worry. I’m ready for my lecture tomorrow. I’ll be a good boy.”

Iwaizumi snorts, but does not pull his hand away, “You will.”

“Can I sleep here?” Oikawa asks. He feels good now, calm, loved, secured. But he fears leaving Iwaizumi’s side again would simply invite the monsters back into his head.

Iwaizumi doesn’t answer, but he does let their fingers entwine as he sinks back down into the covers, so that even if Oikawa _wanted_ to leave, he couldn’t.

* * *

Kyoutani knows that something happened during the Run. But no one seems to care.

Not the stupidity between the adults. That didn’t matter. That was just bullshit. If Kyoutani were in charge Ushijima would be long dead and this constant running around between the three of them wouldn’t be happening.

No, whatever nonsense those three were up to meant nothing to him. If anything, it meant quieter meals at dinner which was always beneficial.

No, the real issue is that something happened to Yahaba.

He’s not sure what. But he knows something is amiss.

It isn’t like Yahaba had changed in any way, or mentioned anything. In fact they had returned to relative normalcy—besides no longer being roommates.

Kyoutani misses him, and he’s not ashamed to admit it, because the current situation of three rowdy pups trying to burrow into his twin bed can only be described as hell on earth. The amount of snarling and threatening he’d have to do at night to shut them all up was absurd. They woke him up so early with their running about. They liked to shift int he middle of the night and lick at his face or gnaw at his feet. Their fighting. Their screaming. All of it horrible.

(Again, if Kyoutani were in charge, Ushijima would be gone, and the pups put in their proper room, and he would be able to sleep for more than three hours at a time.)

Yahaba had stopped ignoring him. Had even offered a few nice smiles when watching Kyoutani try to balance clinging pups from his arms. The kind of smile that made Kyoutani’s invisible tail wag embarrassingly fast beside him.

(Luckily invisible. It’s best for Yahaba not to see that. Kyoutani does not want to revisit the _you’re_ _mine_ conversation ever again.)

The issue is what he smelled back at the Run. The smell that had sent him straight to Yahaba’s side to extinguish. Stinky of sulfur and crushed orange. Bitter. Untrustworthy.

He didn’t know what it was but he didn’t like it.

But Yahaba said nothing of his time in the woods, and Kyoutani did not want to upset him again.

He did not want to make him cry.

So instead he watches him, trying to see if Yahaba will slip up, or if the answer to this mystery would bubble to the surface. Anything.

“Do you need to ask him something?”

Kyoutani looks over at Ushijima, sitting down beside him at the table. “What?”

Ushijima motions with a tilt of his head toward the young Beta, chatting with Hanamaki in the kitchen, “You are staring at the Beta. Do you need his services?”

Kyoutani bristles, unsure what the Alpha is insinuating, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Be calm,” Ushijima warns, and Kyoutani realizes he’s sending off his anger in dangerous waves. He reigns himself in, gripping the edge of the table, “What of the Beta has piqued your interest so?”

Kyoutani bites his lip, shrugging.

Ushijima squints at him then looks away. But he continues to speak, “You make a good Alpha. I can see you leading a strong and capable pack one day.”

Kyoutani blinks, his grip loosening. He’d never really pictured himself leading a pack. He’d always seen the life of a rogue in his future, transient and at the edges. This moment in a home but a pitstop—a lengthy one maybe.

“I offer this advice, from one Alpha to another,” Ushijima continues, “You should not squander your abilities. Think carefully about who you want to spend the rest of your life with.”

Kyoutani blinks rapidly, blood rushing to his face, “Yahaba and I aren’t—”

“Good,” Ushijima nods, seemingly relieved, even though it’s none of his fucking business, “I admit a Beta can sometimes catch the eye, but their uses are so limited. There is no future there. And the future should always be at the forefront of an Alpha’s mind.”

Kyoutani stares at him, “What the fuck are you talking about?”

Ushijima scrunches his nose in distaste, “So crude,” he mutters. Then he looks over, face as blank as stone, “I am speaking of pups Kyoutani. Your lineage. A Beta can never give you that.”

Kyoutani knows that. He’s not an idiot. So his eyes don’t widen because of that. No, they widen at the insinuation. That he’d even _want_ pups, or that he would want them with _Yahaba_.

Yahaba, with his pups.

 _His_ pups.

He feels something burn in his chest, and water his mouth and he is mortified.

“You’ve had your first rut?” Ushijima comments, lifting his hand to place on Kyoutani’s shoulder, as if the teen’s silence was permission to continue. “It would not be a bad idea to begin looking.”

Kyoutani wrenches a way, a rolling sea in his gut. “Says the rogue with no one,” he spits out.

Ushijima’s gaze hardens, as if the topic prickles especially sharp under his skin, “You should not speak of things you have no experience with.”

“Take your own damn advice,” Kyoutani growls, standing up and leaving entirelyso that he can expend energy in the yard, kicking at their fence.

There’s a laugh from Hanamaki in the kitchen that grabs Ushijima’s attention. He sees a sudden flood of pups descend into the room. Kageyama yapping at Hanamaki’s pant leg. Kunimi barreling into Yahaba’s leg. And Kindaichi hopping back and forth impatiently.

Iwaizumi enters with a sigh, having promised the young ones some sort of treat. He pushes past them, digging through the freezer for some juice pops.

He hands them each one to a chorus of appreciation. But it is when Kindaichi gets his that he says something that clears the air entirely, “Thanks Mom!”

An embarrassing faux pas.

The poor pup looks mortified, sudden red blooming at his face.

Kunimi looks ready to laugh.

Iwaizumi just gives a smile.

(It looks sad, to Ushijima, and now that he is on the subject of mates and pups, he wonders why Oikawa and Iwaizumi, as close as they are, had yet to have a litter of their own.)

And then Kageyama _shifts_.

It happens so quickly, in such a mundane moment during a mundane afternoon. He is a dog, and then he is a naked young boy, with black hair that had grown longer since Ushijima had last seen it that fateful night.

“Mom?” Kageyama repeats, his voice hoarse from disuse.

The room is silent, stunned.

“Mom?” Kageyama repeats, in mounting desperation.

Ushijima stands up, recognizing the expression coming to fill Kageyama’s visage. Tears, confusion, agony.

The same face as that terrible night.

Kageyama starts to scream.

No one is prepared.

His shrieks are high pitched, his limbs flail. He smacks himself against the counter in his hurry to get _away_. The other two pups scurry away from him and close together.

Kageyama won’t stop screaming. His face is tomato red from the effort. Tears spill out from his eyes and flood his gaping mouth. Iwaizumi tries to reach for him. Oikawa and Matsukawa have rushed in from upstairs. Kyoutani slams the door open to come back inside.

Kageyama is still screaming.

He almsot runs out the place entirely, but Kyoutani is faster, grabbing the screaming child before he can run between his legs. The boy’s eyes are blown out and he twists and turns to try to get away, clawing and biting and screaming. Always screaming.

“What the fuck is wrong with him?” Kyoutani shouts over him, wrestling with the boy and practically falling over. Kageyama has managed to draw blood with one nasty bite against his forearm. Kyoutani almost drops him with a howl. His stubbornness and anger keeps him from doing so.

Hanamaki quickly closes and locks the door behind him.

“Give him to me,” Ushijima orders, not even waiting for the teen to oblige. He simply grabs the boy, pulling him close to his chest.

Kageyama doesn’t stop screaming or fighting, not until Ushijima grabs him hard by the back of his neck—on where his scruff would be.

The boy falls silent.

Body limp.

Catatonic.

“Shift, Kageyama,” he orders roughly.

Kageyama blinks slowly, shaking out his body as he shifts back into the form of a small black wolf-pup that they had grown accustomed.

He is no longer screaming.

Ushijima pets him before putting him down on the floor.

Kageyama’s tail wags as if nothing had happened. He pads happily toward the other pups, tilting his head to the side when they keep away.

Iwaizumi breaks the silence by slamming a fist against the counter, loud and impactful. Everyone jumps. His scent is weak but his presence extends through the room by sheer force alone.

The Omega is _seething_.

“Ushijima Wakatoshi,” Iwaizumi says, coldly, slowly, eyes an acidic green, “What the _fuck_ happened to that boy?”

Ushijima swallows.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a chap so soon??? wildin
> 
> well ushi, seems like its time to start fessing up
> 
> comments fuel me
> 
> see ya next time


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But no, Oikawa settles himself right beside Ushijima, close enough that their bodies press.
> 
> It isn’t necessarily an intimate position, but it is for two Alphas, especially of their age. Ushijima is too weak to pull away. Oikawa brings his knees up to his chest, “It’s hard to come to terms with the fact,” he says quietly, “That your Alpha is wrong and cruel.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: In this world, Omegas with pups are always referred to as Mothers and Alphas with pups are always referred to as Fathers. Regardless of their primary gender. Ergo, a Female Alpha is still a Father, and a Male Omega is still a Mother.

The loud and piercing song of, “Wa-ka-to-shi!” rouses Ushijima from his restful sleep. He rubs at his eyes, sitting up from his piles of thick comfy sheets. He slips his fingers into his hair, scratching.

Tendou pokes his head in, “There’s our wonderboy!” he grins from ear to ear, his fingers dancing in the air as they point at the drowsy Alpha, “Our Wa-ka-to-shiiiii!”

“What is it, Tendou?” Ushijima asks, voice gravely. He stands up and pads to his closet, pulling on a shirt.

“Your momma wants you,” Tendou explains, tilting his head to the side, “I think she’s figured out a plan.”

Ushijima hums, “Let my father know I will be in her presence soon.”

“Am I a messenger boy now?” Tendou asks, placing a finger theatrically upon his chin, “Well I suppose a messenger to the pack heir is a noble position indeed.”

Ushijima sighs.

Tendou chortles, but leaves him soon enough. Ushijima spares a glance to watch the other Alpha go. The Tendous were an important family to the Shiratorizawa network, closely linked to the Ushijimas. Tendou should not speak so ill of himself. He will have to give him a pep talk later of his worth, and the importance of self confidence in an Alpha.

Unfortunately, the lesson will have to wait until after the conversation with his father. The matters at hand were much too important.

Shiratorizawa had grown too large for its territory.

The lesser families had bred far too much.

Now there were too many mouths to feed and not enough land to til.

Keeping the network of families together had always been their strength, but now they had become bloated. Ushijima had been groomed since puphood to take control of the massive web, but who knows how many lines would remain tethered to his center by the time he finds his mate and ascends.

He meets his father in the Grand House, brisk walk from his own little home. He bows respectfully as he enters and kneels on the cushion in front of her. A kind looking Omega flits in to serve him tea, giving him a soft smile as he does so. He can’t remember his name.

“What have you decided father?” Ushijima asks, never one to wade through preamble. He brings the warm cup to his face, enjoying the way it warms his sleep cold fingers.

His father sighs. She is graying, the color more apparent as a wolf than as she is now. “I have been speaking with the Families. If we want to keep ourselves strong and together, we will need to acquire for more land.”

Ushijima nods, “From the humans?”

“No,” his father scowls, “Taboo. We will have to take it, from a rival pack.”

Ushijima nods again, not ignorant of war. He had fought in many border skirmishes himself with the lesser packs at their peripheries. But still, this solution, though obvious, had its own issue, “But then wouldn’t we have even more mouths to feed?”

His father seems to hesitate, but her eyes grow colder, “We will not take in survivors.”

Ushijima nods slowly, placing his tea down at the table, “But what of those who surrender?”

“We will not take in survivors,” his father repeats.

Ushijima’s stomach begins to sink, like a heavy boulder disturbing a deep lake. He swallows, “The Omegas?”

“We will not take in survivors.”

Ushijima stands up, “father! We are not slaughterers!”

“Do not raise your voice at me, Wakatoshi!” she barks, and he immediately sits down, invisible tail between his legs and gaze sternly at the floor. She lets him sit there in silence, stewing in the humiliation before letting out another long sigh, “We have no other way.”

“And the pups?” Ushijima insists, without daring to look up.

His father glares at him, “Do not make me repeat myself, Wakatoshi. Look at me when I’m talking to you _.”_

Ushijima’s head shoots up, obediently, locking eyes with his father’s. They share the same shade of gold, the same stern expression. Ushijima had inherited little from his mother, other than his shade of hair.

She sighs, “For there to be prosperity there must be drought. The few must die so the many may live. The world is harsh, Wakatoshi, but there is little else that can be done.”

Ushijima doesn’t want to believe that this is the only way, but his father had never steered him wrong.

“Who first?” Ushijima asks quietly.

“Karasuno,” his father responds, “They are weak from their skirmishes with Nekoma. They will fall easily, and from their spat of land opens the rest of the region to us.”

Ushijima looks down, “Are you certain?”

“I am,” his father says. She stands up, her bones cracking noisily in the air.

She shuffles away to her drawer, rummaging through it she takes out a little box wrapped in cloth. She places it carefully in his hands, folding his fingers over it.

He looks at her.

“You leave at dusk.”

Ushijima finds Tendou whistling outside the Grand House. The redhead stops when they meet eyes and the easy smile drops in favor of an inquisitive pucker of his lips, “What’s up?”

“We leave at dusk,” Ushijima repeats his father’s command, squeezing the box in his fist, “Go tell the others.”

Tendou blinks, quickly following after him, “Who?”

“The strongest Alphas we have.”

“Another skirmish?”

“We are going on the offensive,” Ushijima replies.

“Ooh, fun!” Tendou sings, clapping his hands together. Because he doesn’t know. Ushijima does not have the heart to tell him. The task at hand makes his stomach coil like a wounded viper.

“How far are we running?” Tendou asks, cracking his knuckles.

“Not far,” Ushijima replies, We’ll be back by late morning.”

Tendou hums, “I’ll tell Semi to prepare the wagon.”

“No,” Ushijima says, and he says it too fast for Tendou not to look at him suspiciously. He is forced to qualify the statement, “We bring nothing back.”

Tendou keeps frowning, an expression that looks wrong on his face, but he doesn’t respond, simply speeding away to do what his pack has asked of him.

Thats what you were supposed to do without question.

That was what had kept Shiratorizawa the gold standard for generations.

That burden fell heavy on Ushijima’s shoulders, but he would proudly bear it for his family and his pack.

Once he’s alone, Ushijima takes the box from his palm, carefully opening it up.

Inside are a handful of matches wrapped in cloth. A little bottle lays on it side beside them. He unscrews the cap and scrunches up his face.The scent is overwhelming, flooding his nostrils and making him gag.

It stinks of kerosene.

Ushijima feels sick.

By nightfall the Alphas had assembled at the North-West edge of their territory. A few of them yawn, a couple stretch out their limbs, but most just stand at attention, awaiting their orders. There’s about ten of them in all. More than enough for a successful ambush against a small, fairly weak pack.

War was a fact of life for shifters. Territorial creatures as they were, the constant hunger for _more_ fueled them. Shiratorizawa had managed, through sheer force and diplomacy to amass a large and cohesive contingent of pack families under their banner. Ushijima himself had fought alongside these Alphas all his life, protecting their borders, disciplining newer, lesser families and holding other wolves accountable with his teeth and claws. Their practices were ancient and true.

This assignment was different.

“Where to?” Semi asks.

“We run to the Karasuno border,” Ushijima answers, shedding his coat from his back.

They all shift in practiced unison, not missing a beat as they rush through the undergrowth. They slip into the night, dark imperceptible streaks on the horizon.

Karasuno is not far, which would make it a good addition to the territory. It was uncomfortably close to human society, however, which would necessitate greater caution.

How could they be cautious with the task currently assigned to them?

He slows down his run as the scent of carrion and crow itch at his nostrils, muddling his mind with carnage. He stops, just before the scent becomes unbearable and they trespass into Karasuno territory.

His unit stops behind him obediently and awaits his next order. Tendou slides up beside him, his russet fur bright in the moonlight, “Shall I go in to give the ultimatum?” he grins.

That is Tendou’s favorite part. He is good at it. Manipulating. Intimidating. Most times, there is very little need for bloodshed when Tendou is involved. He can make any pack submit to his will eventually. Ushijima is just the force coming from the back that keeps shifters from not listening.

Not this time.

“There is no ultimatum,” Ushijima says, “The decision has been made.” As he says it he shifts back into human, unmodest in his nudity. He holds out a hand, stopping the rest of the pack from following suite.

He takes out the box from where he had tied it to his collar. He strikes one of the matches, the ball of light bright and enchantingly large. It plays dark shadows on his face.

The other wolves draw back instinctively, ears pinned back in wary fear.

It begins.

* * *

Iwaizumi doesn’t let Ushijima finish, can’t let Ushijima finish. He doesn’t want to hear it. He can fill in the blanks easily enough. Ushijima’s undisturbed monotone as he retells the tale making it all the much worse. The pups are present. They don’t need to hear it.

“What are you saying?” Hanamaki hisses in disbelief, “Karasano was taken down by Nekoma.”

Ushijima looks away, “We are good at what we do.”

Iwaizumi’s eyes narrow.

“So you went and tried your hand at genocide,” Oikawa continues, voice cold and unforgiving, laying it out bare for all to see. Ushijima can’t hold his gaze and he does not refute the statement. Iwaizumi grits his teeth.

“I could not do it,” Ushijima finally says, “I could not see to all their deaths. I, I stole Kageyama in to the night.”

“How kind of you,” Oikawa says.

Ushijima doesn’t register the sarcasm. Instead he nods, “I know.”

And then suddenly, he is forced back. His jaw aches, his head wrenched to the side by a blow he had not expected. He snarls, instinctively, ripping his head forward again so that he may fight Oikawa back.

Oikawa is not his attacker.

Oikawa looks as shocked as he is.

No, Iwaizumi has his hand back to give another blow—which he does, this time clawed, and it slices against Ushijima’s ear, spraying blood into the air.

Ushijima steps back, bringing a hand to cover his ear, Hissing out in pain.

“You’re a fucking monster,” Iwaizumi seethes, canines sharp in his mouth, eyes mere animal slits.

Ushijima stares at him.

“You _destroyed_ that family!” Iwaizumi continues, rushing forward to grab Ushijima’s shirt collar and slam him into the wall.

Ushijima grunts, and he tries to remove Iwaizumi’s hands from his person. But that’s all he tries to do.

Iwaizumi pulls him forward just to slam Ushijmia’s head back into the wall, “What? You’ve had your fill of murder? Can’t fight back?”

Ushijima grits his teeth, “I do not fight Omegas.” He still has principles.

Iwaizumi throws him to the floor with so much force the cupboards shake around them. The pups cry out in fear, darting into Matsukawa’s and Hanamaki’s legs. Ushijima’s vision blackens for a moment, before the world comes back into focus at the sudden slice against his chest. Iwaizumi is shouting at him, screaming in fury, and Ushijima catches, “—stop you before!? What about the mother’s you slaughtered? The pups you destroyed!”

“Hajime!” Oikawa says, coming forward to try to grab Iwaizumi and pull him off the fallen shifter, “Hajime, stop!” He manages to loop his arms under Iwaizumi’s armpits, struggling to drag him off.

Iwaizumi thrashes, spitting and screaming, “I should have left you dead on the side of the road you bastard!”

Ushijima sits up, spitting out a wad of blood onto the floor and taking in a heaving breath. He wipes the blood from his nose. “I did not ask for your aid,” he manages to say.

Iwaizumi breaks free of Oikawa’s hold, snarling “ _I’m going to fucking kill you!_ ”

He leaps at the man, and when he lands upon him once more, he’s shifted completely into the form of a big black wolf. Ushijima scrambles away, meaning when Iwaizumi bites him, he lands just shy of his neck, locking onto his shoulder.

“Get the pups out of here!” Oikawa yells, and Hanamaki and Matsukawa grab a pup each, the latter, scooping up Kageyama too.

Ushijima has shifted now, using his back legs to kick Iwaizumi off himself and skid backwards. Iwaizumi does not let up, chasing forward, lost in his rage. Their claws scrabble against the hardwood floor for purchase.

“KyouKen!” Oikawa shouts, “Open the back door!”

Kyoutani stares at him, in disbelief, before seeing the fighting pair’s trajectory. He quickly wrenches the door open, just in time for the two to fall out and not shatter through the glass.

“Oikawa-san,” Yahaba starts, scared.

“The hose?” Kyoutani offers.

Oikawa is pushing past him into the yard, ignoring them completely. He might not have even heard them. His eyes never leave the fight.

Iwaizumi is on top of Ushijima again, clawing at his flank, snarling and furious. Oikawa runs in between them again, trying to grab Iwaizumi’s violently thrashing form, “Hajime, _please_ , you need to calm down!”

He manages to hold him back, hugging him with his whole body. It’s long enough for Ushijima to dart backwards and away, until he’s backed into their fence.

Iwaizumi is growling, scrabbling to push past Oikawa with enough sense not to hurt him. Oikawa presses his face in turn into Iwaizumi’s neck, collects all his will into his scent, his words, and orders, “ _Stop_.”

Iwaizumi’s thrashing lessens. He heaves, and in Oikawa’s arms, he manages to shift back.

Oikawa catches sight of Kyoutani about to spray them all with a hose and shakes his head. “Get us two blankets!” he calls instead.

The two teens rush back into the house.

Iwaizumi is still angry. His chest is bloodied, but none of it is his own. He doesn’t return Oikawa’s hugging hold, his arms remain at their sides. His eyes remain locked on Ushijima.

“You killed that pack. For what? For land?” Iwaizumi’s teeth sharpen in his mouth and Oikawa presses his face back into his neck to try to calm him down, “You took everything from that pup!”

Ushijima has shifted back as well, seated against the fence and looking worse for wear. “You act as if I enjoyed it. As if I wished for it to happen. My hand was forced. My Alpha willed it. And in the end, I did, I did my best to help Kageyama.”

“Bullshit,” Iwaizumi hisses, pushing against Oikawa again but to no avail, “You’ve ruined his life. And now you’ve imprisoned him in his shift, because the moment he stays human for longer than a minute is the moment you have to admit to the evil you’ve committed against him.”

Ushijima stays silent. Yahaba places a blanket over his injured body, and Ushijma takes it, grateful for the modesty. Kyoutani wraps one around Iwaizumi’s shoulders.

“Let’s go inside,” Oikawa murmurs.

“No,” Iwaizumi says, pulling away completely. He tightens the blanket around himself, shaking away both Kyoutani and Oikawa’s touch, “Get out of my house.”

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa starts.

Iwaizumi sends him a glare to shut him up, and it works. He stare right back at Ushijima, “You’re going to go in there. You’re going to grab your clothes. And you’re gonna fucking get out of my house and I’m never going to see you again. Do you understand me?”

Ushijima stands up shakily, leaning heavily against the wood, “I am not leaving Kageyama.”

“You leave without him,” Iwaizumi replies, “Or you leave in a fucking casket.”

Ushijima swallows. He looks over at the other shifters in the yard, but the teens don’t meet his gaze. Oikawa does, but he says nothing.

Why did he even think they would say anything?

He slinks back into the kitchen. Ignoring the disgusted looks from Matsukawa and Hanamaki as he pulls his clothing back on. The blood soaks through his clothes, and he winces. Adrenaline still courses through his veins, making his movements possible at all. He needs to capitalize on that as much as possible.

Once dressed, he leaves through the front door without another word.

“You were right, Tooru” Iwaizumi says, and the fight is gone from his voice. It’s hoarse now, quieter and pained at the edges, “You were right all along.”

“Hajime,” Oikawa murmurs, hugging him close, “It’s not—”

“I brought a murderer into our home. I endangered everyone here. I endangered our _pups_ ,” Iwaizumi hisses, wet and upset.

“I don’t think,” Oikawa starts, “I don’t think he’d ever hurt them.”

Iwaizumi stares at him.

Oikawa sighs, “It’s, it’s hard Iwaizumi, to resist an order from your Alpha.”

Iwaizumi sneers, pushing away completely as if burned, “For Alphas you lot sure seem rather _obedient_.”

“Iwa-chan—,” Oikawa starts again.

“I’m going to calm the pups down,” Iwaizumi ignores him. He pushes pas the two shell shocked teenagers and ignores the Betas inside.

“Oikawa-san,” Yahaba says, carefully, once Iwaizumi is gone, “He’ll die out there.”

Oikawa lets out a long sigh, “I know.” He doesn’t like seeing the look on Yahaba’s face. The disappointment painted there. He sighs again, angrier this time.

“I’ll go get him,” he huffs, heading inside. Matsukawa and Hanamaki are cleaning up the mess in the kitchen, muttering something to themselves. Oikawa interrupts them to ask, “Where’s the first aid kit?”

* * *

Iwaizumi is shaking by the time he gets up the steps to the second floor hallway. The adrenaline has left him, leaving him with achey bones and a spinning skull. He quickly opens the pups’ room and finds it empty, instead filled with the murderer’s scent.

He immediately panics.

He can’t think straight.

His pups are gone. He lets out a keen, an instinctive call, one he’s barely ever used. Where are his pups? _Where are his pups?_

There’s a yip down the hall. An answer to his call.

He blinks rapidly.

Right.

This isn’t the pups’ room anymore.

He rubs his face. He’s sweating. He needs to calm down. His hormones have gone haywire.

Seeing Kageyama like that had set something off inside him he can’t explain. He just knows he needs to see his pups. He needs to make sure they’re okay.

He takes a deep breath and walks over to Kyoutani and Yahaba’s room.

He opens the door.

The three look over at him wearily.

They must be scared of him. Terrified. He’d exploded right in front of them.

That breaks his heart more than he can comprehend.

He kneels onto the floor, so he rests closer to their height and offers his hand to the boys.

He realizes that Kunimi had been in the process of building a nest using Yahaba and Kyoutani’s clothing. He’d enlisted Kindaichi’s help in the matter, showing him how to weave the fabrics together. Kageyama seems to be doing the opposite of helping by chewing up the clothes instead.

Iwaizumi’s heart aches.

“Iwaizumi-san?” Kindaichi asks quietly, tilting his little head.

Iwaizumi wipes his nose.

“Did I scare you?” he asks quietly.

The pups hesitate, before the two human boys nod apprehensively.

“I’m sorry,” Iwaizumi says and he means it.

Kindaichi dips his head down, tracing an invisible pattern on the floor and darting to look at the wolf pup in the room, “Is…Is Kageyama okay?”

“I don’t know,” Iwaizumi responds. He flicks his gaze to said pup, calling him over.

Kageyama trots up obediently, ears perked up at the sound of his name. Iwaizumi smiles at him sadly, scratching the back of his ears. Kageyama leans into the touch, his tail wagging behind him.

“You’ve had a rough time, haven’t you, Kageyama?” Iwaizumi murmurs.

The pup doesn’t respond.

Iwaizumi lets out some air through his nose, biting his lip, “I know it’s scary to shift, that it makes you think of sad things, but sometimes, we have to think through the sad things for the happy times to come.”

The pup licks his nose, and Iwaizumi sighs. He is too tired to force the point. But they will _have_ to trigger Kageyama’s shift, and help him through the trauma as soon as possible. The sooner they can help the boy continue with his life, the better.

Iwaizumi ends up crawling over to Kunimi, petting down his hair as apology before helping with his nest building. The pup has done an excellent job so far, methodical and slow. He’s proud of him. He’s proud of all of them. He loves them.

The door opens.

Kyoutani looks surprised, face contorting slightly red. “I’ll go,” he stammers.

Iwaizumi tilts his head to the side, “It’s your room, Kyoutani. You can stay.”

Kyoutani seems to hesitate, hunching his shoulders up self consciously and skittering toward his bed. Iwaizumi can see he is uncomfortable. He looks stressed. Jittery.

Iwaizumi is a bad Omega.

He’d put his pups in danger.

And now he couldn’t even keep them calm when the danger was gone.

What use is he to them, if he can’t help them feel safe?

He squeezes the piece of fabric in his hand and tries to think. Tries to think back to all the lessons he’d sat through. All the snaps to his wrist the Matron had given him for goofing off. He should have paid better attention. He bites his lip.

He knows one thing that could calm any shifter. That could calm him down too, right about now.

“Let’s shift,” he says.

Kyoutani blinks. They’re not supposed to shift inside, even though, of course, Iwaizumi had broken that very rule only an hour or so before.

Iwaizumi shifts regardless, settling his large form into the nest Kunimi had built. He calls to Kageyama, and the little pup settles against him. Iwaizumi presses his tongue against his head, swiping down the black fur in long soothing strokes.

Kindaichi and Kunimi stare, exchange a glance between them and then quickly scrabble to shift as well. They burrow themselves along Iwaizumi’s warm body, eager to be groomed. A treat really, that Iwaizumi had rarely ever indulged them with.

Iwaizumi nudges the pups around his side,rearranging them and discouraging their squabbling. He licks at them, smoothing down the fur on their heads, their backs, warming them up until the three become mere balls of purring goo.

Kyoutani squeezes his fingers in his hands at the sight.

What Iwaizumi is doing is intimate. It’s what a mother does with their young pups. It’s what loves might do. Kyoutani remembers his own mother grooming him when he was little, but that had been ages ago.

He can’t look away.

Iwaizumi lifts his head up, his canine eyes staring straight into Kyoutani’s soul. Beckoning him. Calling him.

Kyoutani shifts, tail low to the ground and ears pinned submissively back. Iwaizumi’s paw moves forward to tap at the space in front of him, at the edge of the nest Kunimi had built them. Kyoutani shuffles there, self conscious and antsy. But his fidgeting stops the moment Iwaizumi takes hold of his scruff with his teeth, forcing him down limply on the ground. Kyoutani’s eyes are wide, and when Iwaizumi’s tongue hits the back of his head he shudders.

He lets out a whine, paws flexing as he lays on his side, but the more Iwaizumi bathes him, the more he feels his heart rate start to slow.

They stay like that for a long while, being mothered by the other half of their pack leader. Kyoutani can’t deny that it feels good. Feels more than good. Feels right.

Still, the Alpha in him wants to pull away, to reclaim some dignity in this childish behavior. But, he doesn’t really _have_ to listen to that. Oikawa doesn’t. None of his pack really seems to follow the lines that much. Ushijima’s presence had made that fairly clear.

He wonders…

He flicks his head back slightly, stretching his neck and swiping his tongue along Iwaizumi’s cheek.

He holds his breath.

Normally this type of affront to a mated Omega would be grounds for expulsion. Death maybe, depending on the pack in question. It was a direct attack against Oikawa’s claim.

Kyoutani didn’t mean it like that though. Maybe he would have if this was a year ago, and he was still vying for Iwaizumi’s attention.

Now it was different. Now he wanted to just…he didn’t know. He just wanted to return the comfort Iwaizumi was giving him. He wanted to groom him too.

Iwaizumi smiles at him, ducking his head lower in permission.

Something fierce blooms in Kyoutani’s chest at the admission. His tail thumps loudly against the floor behind him. He cranes forward, tonguing at the top of Iwaizumi’s head. His efforts lack practice or methodology, birthing more cow licks than anything,but he makes up for in enthusiasm. Iwaizumi laughs.

Kyoutani had never groomed anyone before. This was reserved for mated pairs. Or for mothers and their pups. Or for Omegas between each other.

In his excitement he stands up, moving up to start swiping his tongue over the pups, overflowing with affection. If he was human he’d hold himself back. But the wolf in him had always been more open to his heart.

Iwaizumi lays his head down, and looks at him softly.

Kyoutani feels the warmth flood through his whole system. He wants to rush down and bring Yahaba up here.He’d groom Yahaba. That’s what he should have done ,he realizes! Back when Yahaba had cried because of him! He should have groomed him! It was impossible to feel anything but safe when groomed. 

He maybe would have rushed down there to do just that if not for the sudden knock on their door.

* * *

Oikawa sniffs at the air as he walks. It’s dark in the neighborhood with no one out and about. He has to stop every so often, to try to wash away any droplets of blood that would lead back to his home.

He’s glad he brought his water bottle.

The blood is not excessive, but it is definitely noticeable.

He follows the trail closely, erasing it as he goes, wondering just how far Ushijima managed to get while injured. It’s impressive really.

He scowls. He hates how impressive the Alpha is.

He sighs, readjusting his grip on the first aid kit at his side.

He walks for a long time. Too long he fears.He thinks of doubling back. He must have missed him. There’s no way Ushijima could get this far without collapsing. But the blood trail continues, and the smell of him is still strong.

His smell is _always_ strong.

Maybe he should have drove.

He keeps walking.

The neighborhood gives way to more rural land, the sidewalk winding into gravel, the crunch beneath his feet loud in his ears. The blood trail becomes harder to make out among the rocks and pebbles, and the darkness is only growing.

He worries he might lose the scent. He could shift—he’d be faster, he’d smell farther—but he does not want to abandon his things here. He is still close to a main road. He doesn’t want to risk it.

He keeps walking.

After another few turns he finally spots him, leaning heavily against a tree trunk. His massive form heaving, one hand clutching at his mangled shoulder. Oikawa quickens his steps, and Ushijma must be in severe pain to not have heard or seen him coming. He looks surprised to see him, baring his teeth in a pitiful warning.

Oikawa ignores him, “Come on.”

He takes the other Alpha, groaning at the dead weight against his side as he leads him away from the main road and into the strip of forest to their right. He sits the man down on the ground and Ushijima looks up at him with half closed eyes, “Why?”

Oikawa ignores the question, in favor of removing Ushijima’s blood soaked shirt. He winces at the deep bite wound Iwaizumi had given and can’t help the marvel of respect that blooms in him at the miles Ushijima had walked with it pounding against his nerves.

He pour the rest of his water over the wound, flushing it out, watching as the diluted blood flows down Ushijima’s heaving muscular chest.

Ushijima winces, letting his head fall back against the tree. Oikawa takes out his disinfectant, carefully dabbing at the puncture marks, shushing when Ushijima let out an epspecially loud groan.

When he’s done he takes out his roll of bandages, helping Ushijima sit up so he can start wrapping his shoulder, looping it over his chest and under his arm. When he’s done, he safety pins the end nice and tight.

“How’s your leg?” Oikawa asks.

“Fine,” Ushijima replies.

Oikawa uses his hands to lift Ushijima’s face, and the man must be exhausted to not flinch or fight back. Ushijima does close his eyes though, as if not seeing would protect him from the indignity. Oikawa tilts his head so that he can better examine Ushijima’s neck. The bruising is almost gone.

He has the itch to mark it up again and quickly swallows it down.

He lets him go.

“Why?” Ushijima says again.

Oikawa doesn’t know if he’s asking why he’s helping him, or if he’s asking why Oikawa did not bite him then. He puts his things back in their box and Ushijima looks away, seemingly thinking that Oikawa would leave him now. His conscious cleared.

But no, Oikawa settles himself right beside Ushijima, close enough that their bodies press.

It isn’t necessarily an intimate position, but it _is_ for two Alphas, especially of their age. Ushijima is too weak to pull away. Oikawa brings his knees up to his chest, “It’s hard to come to terms with the fact,” he says quietly, “That your Alpha is wrong and cruel.”

Ushijima looks at him, confused.

“It seems obvious in hindsight,” Oikawa continues, “But in the moment, it’s hard to resist the pull. If it’s all you’ve ever known, you assume it must be right.”

“You are speaking of Kitagawa Daichi’s Pack Alpha?”

Oikawa hums, looking up through the tree line, at the smattering of stars doing their best to be seen, “In Kitagawa, you don’t know your parents. Kitagawa-san is your father and your mother. She’s everything. She hated me. I hated her,” he stops, licking his lips, “I loved her too though. I loved her so much.”

“Why?” Ushijima asks, “If she was so cruel. If she took you from your parents?”

“Because that’s just how it was. That’s just the world we had. What other way was there? I never met my parents. I mean, I’m sure I met them. In the commune. Maybe one was a teacher, maybe another a doctor I visited. I don’t know. It didn’t really matter.”

He takes in another deep breath, “She could be nice. She knew everyone’s birthday. Every year, on my birthday, she would give me a flower, even though it was, was so un-Alphan of me to want it. But I do love flowers. And she would give me that respite. And I loved her for it. I really did.”

Ushijima looks away, “Why are you telling me this? Unprompted? So freely?”

“Because, it’s hard to unlearn, the things you were raised with. It’s hard to open your eyes to your own past mistakes, and push into the unknown. It’s hard to come to terms with the fact, that your Alpha, who’s supposed to be there to guide you, to protect you, to lead you, is wrong and cruel.”

Ushijima looks at the ground, “My father—” He stops his defense, because he can’t find one. What his father had decreed was wrong, was cruel. He knew it, before and he knew it during the act. But to accept that fact meant to accept she was fallible. In the stillness of the air, he is force to let the weight of that thought sit on his shoulders, folding him inward, pressing him down into the earth as if he was just a little pup.

_What else had she been wrong about?_

He looks at Oikawa, his own eyes a fraction wider, and it’s as if that fraction allows him to see the world in sharper focus.

Oikawa gives him a soft, sad smile.

He looks older here, with lines along the edges of his eyes. His jaw is sharp, his hair darkened with sweat. Ushijima finds himself leaningtoward him, partly because he can barely hold up his own weight, and partly from desire.

He ends up resting his head on Oikawa’s shoulder, the position definitely one of intimacy. But Oikawa lets him, even tilts his head slightly to rest atop Ushijima’s own. He keeps his gaze up at the sky. His arms wrapped around his knees, playing with his fingers.

Ushijima can smell Oikawa. He’s rarely been able to, with how faint the other’s scent is. But here in the quietness of the forest, and the proximity of his skin, he can breath him in. Coffee and mint, a touch of chocolate.

He smells nice.

Inviting.

Ushijima closes his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ive just been a writing demon lately lmao. 
> 
> you can yell at me on twitter.
> 
> enjoy
> 
> until next time


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Can I help you?” Matsukawa asks. He’s clearly a Beta. He smells stale and bland, like white bread left out for too long.
> 
> “Certainly,” Tendou replies, with a grin, “I’m looking for a lost dog.”

Tendou Satori smiles warmly at Matsukawa when the man answers the door. He spots Yahaba, the Beta he had met in the woods just behind him and gives him a friendly little wave. The teen looks surprised. Unnerved.

Excellent.

“Can I help you?” Matsukawa asks. He’s clearly a Beta. He smells stale and bland, like white bread left out for too long.

“Certainly,” Tendou replies, with a grin, “I’m looking for a lost dog.”

Matsukawa squints slightly, seeming to pick up on Tendou’s scent. It’s not like he’d tried to camouflage himself. Betas were just remarkably bad at smelling when it mattered.

The fact Yahaba hadn’t smelled him at all, even when he was sweaty from hiking up to him, was a testament to just how useless Betas could be.

Matsukawa keeps the door semi closed—he’s smart, smarter than Yahaba had been. “We haven’t seen a dog.”

“Oh?” Tendou says, sticking his foot in through the crack of the door, “Because I can _smell_ him all over your house.”

Matsukawa’s eyes flash with some sort of understanding, and then he seems more adamant about shoving him out of their home. Tendou raises a hand up in signal, and the other Alphas from the extensive Shiratorizawa pack start coming out of the wood work. They’re all unshifted, chatting casually by the sidewalk, a few across the road and there’s one poking her head out from the truck parked by the street.

“Matsukawa-san,” Yahaba hisses. When Matsukawa looks back at him, he can see the younger Beta is pointing to their back door. Through the window he can seea few more Alphas have dropped over the fence and into the yard.

Matsukawa bristles, but his attention returns to Tendou as he speaks up, “We just want to chat a little. Real civil. We wouldn’t want to wake up your three little pups with some kind of commotion, now would we?”

Matsukawa’s heart plummets to the bottom of his stomach. How do they know about their pups? About how many they have? What else do they know? How many more are there? Already there are too many for the small contingent of battle weary pack members to take on. He hesitates another moment before slowly letting the door fall open. Tendou smiles, letting himself in, allowing his scent to extend throughout the open concept space, infecting every bit of it as much as he can.

Yahaba continues to stare at him in disbelief.

“Yahaba, my dear friend,” Tendou says honey sweet, “Could you go bring your Alpha down from upstairs?”

Yahaba’s face twists, looks like he’s about to talk back, but Matsukawa sends him a look Tendou can’t see. Then the teenager is scurrying up the stairs and out of sight. Tendou takes a seat in the living room, placing his feet on the coffee table with a loud thunk. Dirt from his boots sprinkles down onto the wood.

Yahaba finds no one in the master bedroom. He finds no one in Ushijima’s room. He finds no on in the Beta room. Finally, he checks his old room, and he finds the rest of the pack all there. Everyone has shifted into wolves, lazing on the floor together.

Kyoutani barks at him, running up to press against his legs. Yahaba pushes him away, “There’s, there’s a strange man here. I think, I think he’s a shifter. There are more of them, all around the house.”

Iwaizumi shifts back into his human self, stepping over the napping pups, “Repeat that?”

Kyoutani shifts too, grabbing at the clothes he’d left on the floor. Iwaizumi motions for Yahaba to follow him to the master bedroom where he can get dressed properly.

“He said, he said to get the Alpha but, Oikawa-san isn’t, isn’t back yet,” Yahaba continues, the mounting stress making it hard for him to breathe, let alone speak.

“Calm down, Yahaba,” Iwaizumi murmurs, once he’s tugged up a pair of pants and slipped on a shirt, “I’ll go talk to him with Matsun and Makki. You stay up here with the pups, okay?”

“But—“

“Kyoutani,” Iwaizumi ignores him, “Stick close to me. I might need you.”

He doesn’t explain for what, but Kyoutani obediently goes to stand beside him. Yahaba worries his lip, angry that he’s being sequestered with the young, but knowing full well he wouldn’t be much help in a fight. He tries to dig through his head for any information on Tendou Satori from the conversation he had with him. He’d only divulged information of himself, like an idiot.

All he knew was his name.

Useless.

All he can do now is watch as Iwaizumi and Kyoutani descend down the steps without him.

Before they even reach the bottom rung, both Kyoutani and Iwaizumi’s skin prickles at the smell of the intruding Alpha. Citrus and mud, and reminiscent of Ushijma with its metallic undertones. Iwaizumi squeezes Kyoutani’s arm to keep him from growling.

He doesn’t let go before whispering, “Keep your scent strong.”

And then he steps into the living room.

Tendou’s smile brightens, “Oh, yay! Finally, some company to speak to.”

Matsuakawa and Hanamaki share an offended look, keeping close to each other. Iwaizumi ignores the intruder, turning to his Betas, “How are you?” he asks calmly.

“Could be better,” Hanamaki responds, _They have the upper hand._

“Dinner took twice as long to prepare,” Matsukawa sighs. _They have double our numbers._

“That’s what you get for not listening,” Hanamaki chides, _We have to hear him out._

“As much as I love being privy to Betas reporting on their housekeeping duties,” Tendou interrupts, “I need to speak to your Alphas about my lost dog.”

 _Alphas_.

Kyoutani looks at Iwaizumi, and Iwaizumi squeezes his arm again in warning. Kyoutani swallows and finally catches on. He extends his scent, wrapping it tightly around himself and Iwaizumi.

This shifter doesn’t know them. Doesn’t know their individual scents. I

“Lost dog?” Iwaizumi repeats, taking a seat in front of the intruder, “How tragic.”

Tendou’s eyes squint as his smile grows and he leans forward, “Have you seen him? He’s quite a big wonderful boy.”

“Afraid not,” Iwaizumi responds.

“That’s interesting,” Tendou continues, “Because you stink of his blood.”

 _Shit_ , Iwaizumi thinks, he had yet to shower from the fight. He wasn’t wearing the bloodied clothes. But he must still reek of adrenaline and Ushijima’s pain and suffering. So much so that even Kyoutani’s potent scent can’t cover it up.

Regardless, he doesn’t flinch. He wishes Oikawa were here. Oikawa had always been better at the talking. At the persuading. He tries to think of what Oikawa would say, right now, to turn the tide.

“You’ve come a long way from Shiratorizawa,” Iwaizumi says.

Tendou places a hand on his own cheek, “You’re slow to connect dots, I see. I can make this easier then. It’s simple really. Where is he?”

“Not here,” Iwaizumi answers honestly, “He’s gone.”

“Not good enough,” Tendou sighs, and he almost looks sad, like he pities Iwaizumi for answering him incorrectly. “Where. Is. He?”

Iwaizumi remains unperturbed, “Haven’t the slightest clue.”

Tendou stares at him, purses his lips and then smacks them noisily together. “Fine,” he says, standing up with a crack of his knees.

“Leaving so soon?” Iwaizumi asks.

“That’s up to you, Iwaizumi Hajime,” Tendou responds, and he does get a reaction from the muscled Alpha. He can see his brain through his green eyes, trying to figure out how Tendou could possibly know his name. What a fool, really. He knew Yahaba’s full name, he knew his school, finding records and emergency contacts was child’s play.

Disappointingly easy.

“I can’t go home empty handed,” he continues, waving his hands in Iwaizumi’s face, “So if there’s no Ushijima here, well then, I’ll have to bring his father something worth just as much.”

Iwaizumi grits his teeth.

“Two Alphas for manual labor,” Tendou thinks aloud, tapping his chin.

Kyoutani bares his teeth and doesn’t hold back his snarl.

Tendou tilts his head almost ninety degrees, his ear practically hitting against his shoulder, continuing his tally, “Three Betan housekeepers. Oh, and three little pups. Two Omegas among them. A gift that keeps on giving.”

Kyoutani has his hands on Tendou’s collar, face vicious and feral as he threatens to sever his neck. But right when he lays hands on the foreign Alpha, their front door is slammed open and several more Alphas rush in.

Tendou looks smug in Kyoutani’s grip, not even bothering to fight back.

Iwaizumi places his hand on Kyoutani’s shoulder, urging him back.

“Fine,” Iwaizumi says, keeping his gaze on Tendou, “We’ll go.”

* * *

Yahaba sits on Kyoutani’s bed, squeezing the pillow close to his chest. The pups sleep peacefully on the floor, shifted and unaware of the danger they’re in. They’re all in.

The door opens and he looks over, standing up. The pillow drops to the floor.

Hanamaki stands there, flanked by two strange Alphas. He isn’t smiling. There’s blood on his temple, dripping down the side of his cheek.

“They want us all downstairs,” he says mutely.

Yahaba swallows.

He stands up, wary of the Alphas staring at him. He nudges the pups awake. Kindaichi and Kunimi shift back, and cower into each other at the scent in the air. Charged and electric, bursting to fill the room with an ear-shattering battle. They don’t fight Yahaba when he tells them to get dressed.

Yahaba takes each of their hands into his own and leads them out of the room, Kageyama slinking behind them with his tail tucked between his legs. They follow the Alphas down the stairs and are forced to sit in the living room where Matsukawa is. They all have to sit on the same couch, so each Beta gets a pup in their lap.

Tendou isn’t here anymore, Yahaba notices.

The house is full of strangers, poking and prodding. There is a cacophony of noise as they tear their home apart. Wood splitting. Beams breaking.

“Where’s Iwaizumi-san?” Yahaba whispers.

Matsukawa doesn’t look at him, keeping his gaze on one of the Alpha’s sitting in their armchair. “He’s already in their car,” he says quietly, “Him and Kyoutani. Alphas first, they said.”

Yahaba’s stomach drops.

“Is this all?” Another strange Alpha asks, voice contempt, “This is all that exists of the pack that kept Ushijima-san prisoner?”

None of them care to answer.

“What’s a pack with three pups doing,” the Alpha continues, shoving his head closer to the Betas, “without a full grown Omega?”

Matsukawa and Hanamaki don’t flinch, and so Yahaba does his best not to either.

It’s humiliating really, for the Alpha to come into his neck, smelling at him to confirm his secondary gender. It’s an intimate gesture, and he longs to pull away, to bite him, but he doesn’t. Because Matsukawa and Hanamaki hold firm too.

The Alpha snorts, “Two Omegan pups, but no mother in sight.”

Yahaba doesn’t understand. They took Iwaizumi. It’s why he isn’t here.

A second Alpha comes into view and he looks furious. Hatred keen on his face as he shoves chains into the hands of the first Alpha. The look on the former darkens when he smells the metal.

The chains still smell like Ushijima.

Ushijima in distress and pain.

The Alpha grabs Yahaba’s collar, because he’s the closest, yanking him up so hard Yahaba fears he might start choking.

“It was my idea!” Hanamaki speaks up suddenly, “To chain him.”

The pull around Yahaba’s neck is gone. Instead, Hanamaki is thrown t the floor. Kunimi, who had been in his lap is screaming, scrabbling away. There is more blood flowing from Hanamaki’s face, streaming down from his nose where he was punched so hard he had fallen straight down. He wipes the blood away with the back of his hand and refuses to make any kind of sound.

Matsukawa has stood up to, instinctively, although he does nothing to retaliate against the Alpha. He takes a deep breath and then leans down to help Hanamaki back to his feet.

The three pups have migrated to Yahaba’s side, shaking and crying, and Yahaba is shaking too, throat a mere pinprick of fear. The sudden burst of violence makes his bones rattle to get away.There is more slamming around behind them and throughout the house, each angry sound making the young shifters jump and cry.

Another Alpha bursts in through the door, “Alright we’re ready for the rest.”

Someone grabs Kindaichi from Yahaba’s arms, and he struggles to keep hold of the flailing child before being shoved back into the couch. Kindaichi shouts, terrified, and a cloth is pressed tight against his mouth and nose. Yahaba watches in horror as the poor boys body goes rigid. Than his body spasms, like a seizure, bones pulling in directions without his consent. He’s shifting into his wolf form against his will. From there another Alpha wraps a tight muzzle around the pup, and throws him into a bag.

Yahaba can’t do anything. He can’t even scream or move. He stares as they’re just as rough with Kunimi, shoving him into the same writhing bag once he’s shifted. Hanamaki and Matsukawa are shouting, but Yahaba can’t even hear them. He feels like he’s underwater. He feels like he’s going insane. How could they treat them so carelessly? They’re pups. They’re just pups. What’s happening. Why is this happening?

Where’s Oikawa?

Kageyama gets muzzled too, and the bag is drawn tight and hefted over a shoulder and taken away. Instinctively, Yahaba scrambles up to follow, but again he is knocked down onto the couch, with force enough to make his ears ring.

Hanamaki and Matsukawa have shifted of their own volition, gone absolutely feral and forgetting the fact they are horribly outnumbered. They howl and scratch and bite, but it is useless. They are tied down and muzzled, and Yahaba is too paralyzed to do anything as he watches the pair get dragged out by chains collared too tightly around their necks.

A hand comes toward Yahaba, and he flinches, pulling away. He hadn’t even tried to run. He hadn’t done anything to stop them. Useless. Coward.

A cloth is pressed against his mouth and nose and he tenses up.

Nothing happens.

The Alpha seems impatient, shoving harder against him with the cloth.

Nothing.

The cloth is pulled away and Yahaba takes in a gasping breath. The Alpha has turned away to someone else, “I need a fresh soaked rag!”

Yahaba squirms, but the grip on him is tight. Soaked with what? When it’s pressed against him again the cloth is still bone dry.

He blinks rapidly.

Scent soaked maybe?

His mind is reeling, but he’s trying to focus, to calm himself. The rags must be coated with a scent, a scent that forces a shift. It’s not working on him because he can’t smell it.

He hesitates.

Maybe he doesn’t want them to know it won’t work on him? This could be the one thing he can have against them.

Yahaba has not shifted in a long, _long_ , time.

He’s rusty to say the least, and the way he forces it on probably looks convincingly unconsensual to not arise suspicion from the Alphas. His bones grind as he pulls them into place, his hair lightens to a more ghostly complexion. Until, finally, he becomes a white wolf, anxiously keening in the Alpha’s hold.

He’s muzzled immediately, the cloth being shoved inside the mask, keeping his jaw shut tight around it. He’s collared too, and dragged out of the home by a rough chain.

He is thankful for the chain.

The world is a more terrifying place without it, especially as he is forced outside into the pitch darkness. He can’t help but whine, loud and fearful, only slightly muffled by the muzzle in place. The chain is tugged more harshly and he skids as he follows the direction.

He can’t see anything.

He can’t smell, so he can’t see anything.

He _hates_ being a wolf.

He cries again, and someone shoves him up. His legs scramble as they catch on the back ofthe truck and he has to haul himself up. His chain gets latched onto something along the truck wall. He lets out another pathetic cry, and he hears Kyoutani’s muffled bark in return. None of them can talk properly with the muzzles on.

Yahaba skids forward, shaking terribly until he stumbles into someone’s flank. He can’t tell who it is. It is too dark. He whines, and then he hears Matsukawa bark softly at him. He leans into his fur, trying to calm his breathing. Trying to remember why he allowed himself to shift like this. Why he ever wanted to return to this self-made hell. Matsukawa rubs his head against him and he wishes the muzzle was off so the older Beta could lick him properly.

He topples a bit as the truck starts to move. Matsukawa is much bigger than him though, and catches all his weight. He nuzzles his face into his chest and tries to let his heart rate slow.

The world is scary but at least he’s not alone.

It takes a few minutes, but once he’s calmed down enough to think, he starts to nose around. It’s too dark to see and his chain only allows him so much range, but all he bumps into is the rest of his pack, shifted and muffled. He doesn’t think any of their captors are back here with them. He can’t stand staying shifted this long, regardless.

So he shifts.

It’s cold. Freezing really, without his fur, in this open truck bed. He still can’t see great, but at least the pure anxiety has subdued. The muzzle falls to rest against his chest, looped loosely around his neck. He takes in clear breath.

He brings his hands back to fumble with the back of the muzzle. His fingers catch blindly on a lock and he curses. Instead, he wraps his fingers around the muzzle itself, tugging it up his face painfully. He wriggles it up and over, letting it drop on the truck bed with a clatter.

He freezes, but it’s just his pack in the back of the truck, on this dark abandoned road. He rubs his face and goes to the collar next only to find it locked with the same kind of mechanism. Thankfully, the chain is loose around his now, much slimmer neck, and this slips off him too. It does pull at his hair where the strands slip between the links and rips at his scalp. He doesn’t care.

At least he’s free.

He crawls back toward Matsukawa, letting his fingers card through his fur, using it to map up to Matsukawa’s neck. He curses, finding the same damned locks at the back of their heads.

He lets his fingers climb over the muzzle, seeing if he can stick his fingers through the gaps to dislodge the scent soaked cloth in someway. Yahaba lets out a frustrated growl. The truck makes a turn and the wind blows harsher against his naked body. He shudders.

He doesn’t know how far Shiratorizawa’s territory is. He doesn’t know how much time he has left. He doesn’t know what to do.

He wishes Oikawa were here.

He feels fur against him, and the soft murmur of Iwaizumi near him. He reaches out to pet him, but Iwaizumi knocks the touch away, instead pushing Yahaba with his muzzled snout toward the back of the truck.

Yahaba swallows, “I don’t want to leave you.”

Iwaizumi keeps pushing him.

Yahaba whimpers, fingers digging into his palms, “I’ll—I’ll get Oikawa-san. I’ll come right back with him. He’ll know…he’ll know what to do.”

Iwaizumi pushes up to his neck, rubbing their necks together in encouragement, before giving another shove. Yahaba’s back hits the truck flap, and he grunts.

He’s not sure if he has time to wait for the truck to hit a stoplight. The road is dark, without any streetlights. Who knows where they even are. He can’t risk waiting. The truck is moving so fast. He wouldn’t make the jump as he is.

He curses. The truck hits a bump and his bones rattle against the side.

Fuck.

 _Fuck_.

This is all his fault anyway. He deserves this.

He shifts again.

It’s easier this time, but the end result is still disorienting and terrifying. He doesn’t let himself think, he just jumps, careening out of the truck bed and falling to the ground. He stifles his yelp, rolling against the dirt and laying still. He waits, praying the truck does not turn back, nor that more vehicles full of hostile Alphas appear.

They don’t.

He scrambles up, ears pinned back to the side of his head. It’s so dark. The clouds must be blotting out the moon. He wants to let out a cry but he’s terrified someone would hear him. He could shift, but he’s not sure, for once, if that would be any better.

If he shifted he’d be equally blind, and he would also be naked and freezing.

He’s disoriented, and he can’t be certain which way is home and which way is toward Shiratorizawa. He can’t risk it. He can’t risk stumbling blindly around. He decides to hunker down where he is, and wait, trembling in fear and self hatred, until the moon returns to the sky, or the dawn light breaks through the horizon.

It happens through neither.

Yahaba scrambles up to his feet, eyes catching on the sudden blaze in the distance, spilling smoke and fire into the dark sky. He can’t see it for sure. But he knows, he knows deep within what it is.

He howls, a sudden mournful angry sound, ripped straight from his chest.

And then he starts to run.

* * *

Oikawa yawns, stretching out his arms up high in an attempt to soothe his aching muscles. Dawn light creeps up the horizon, flitting through the tree line to dapple at his face.

Ushijima is heavy against him, face tucked into the crook of his neck, arm secured around his waist. It would be cute if it wasn’t Ushijima.

Oikawa hesitates pushing the Alpha away. He looks younger like this, without the constant furrow in his brow. His skin is smoother, brighter, his mouth relaxed. His lips ghost the glands of Oikawa’s neck and it almost tickles.

He wonders if Ushijima had grown touch starved over the weeks in their home. Lack of communal bonding can take a nasty toll on any shifter, both physically and mentally.

He brings a hand up to card through Ushijima’s hair. It’s coarse, a bit greasy at the roots, but he still can’t bring himself to pull away. Ushijima smells good now, like he is in his element, in the woods. It brings out the earthy tones beneath the metallic rust and floods Oikawa’s mouth with a desire he’d rather not think about.

Iwaizumi’s words tackle his brain.

They should go home.

He sighs, poking at Ushijima’s face unceremoniously, until the taller man snuffles out a sleepy growl and lifts his head up. Recognition dawns on Ushijima’s face slowly, but once it does he snaps to attention, pulling completely away. It’s cold without him pressed against Oikawa’s side, but he’s not going to bring it up.

Oikawa, now that he is free, stands up. His knees crack and he groans, trying to shake out all the aches and pops from resting against a tree all night. He cracks his neck by shifting his head side to side, and then he finally turns to Ushijima.

“Well? Shall we?”

“Shall we what?” Ushijima replies back. He looks worse for wear. The battle injuries now allowed to sink in and stew in the sinews of his muscles. He’s hunched over slightly, blank face strained.

“Go home,” Oikawa continues, “I could sure use some of Hanamaki’s pancakes right about now.”

“I do not think I am welcome,” Ushijima reminds.

“Let me handle Iwa-chan,” Oikawa waves off, beginning to walk back out toward the road, “That’s my job, after all.”

Ushijima does not look convinced, but he also has no where else to go. So he follows, picking his way carefully to avoid aggravating his numerous injuries. Oikawa slows his step without being asked, but he is unable to keep the silence between them.

“Will you ever go back to your pack?” Oikawa asks him.

Ushijima considers the question and answers it honestly, “I do not know.”

Oikawa hums, filling in the silent gaps, “On the one hand, I have a responsibility to go back and change the way things are so others do not suffer. But on the other hand, why should I martyr myself when I have others to take care of too?”

Ushijima looks at Oikawa carefully, “Well said.”

Oikawa flashes a smile, “I have had a long time to think about it.”

Ushijima nods, looking up at the sky, “If I return I would be branded a defector. A traitor.”

Oikawa tilts his head to the side, “Are all Alphas prisoners in Shiratorizawa? Unable to leave?”

“Of course not,” Ushijima replies, “You misunderstand. Alphas are free to come and go as they please as long as they fulfill their pack duties. Many Alphas will run off for a year or two in search of a suitable mate. But I abandoned my own duty.”

Oikawa nods slowly, fingers wrapping around Ushijima’s arm to pull him to the left so he turns correctly down the next road. His hand doesn’t pull away, nor does Ushijima shake him off. He decides its a comfort for his injured body, a safety precaution, in case he were to fall.

That’s all it is.

It is very early in the morning, with the dawnlight barely able to eek out of the cloudy horizon. There is not a soul out this early, and the world is quiet. The silence is peaceful between them however, and Ushijima is grateful to have it blanket his shoulders. There is peace in this.

Oikawa turns them down another path without a word, but Ushijima stops him. His feet cement to the sidewalk as he stiffens. Familiarity prickles his skin and he opens his mouth to let the scent flood his palate just to be sure.

Metal and earth.

And fire.

“What?” Oikawa asks.

Ushijima feels his heartbeat quickening, “Can you smell that?”

Oikawa pauses, focusing on the air around them. His brows furrow, “Smells like you. And…toast? Burnt toast?”

Ushijima swallows. He doesn’t know what to say. Oikawa looks at him, eyes squinting, before realization dawns on his face. And then suddenly he has left Ushijima’s side in favor of running down the side street.

Ushijima curses under his breath when he almost tips over, but not at Oikawa. At _himself_. He has smelled this smell before.

He tries his own hand at running and it is _excruciating_. His muscles protest, his leg burns, his throat constricts but he shuts it down. He will feel the pain later, triplefold. He needs to get to the Seijoh residence as fast as possible.

He’s just one bend away from the house when he hears Oikawa. Hears the scream ripped from his vocal chords into the air. He’s not shifted, so it cracks in his throat and doesn’t carry as far as a howl would.

And then the house comes into view.

Or the ruins of it.

There are police vehicles parked on the side of the road, caution tape sectioning off the are. The yellow stripe has been ripped apart, each end fluttering in the quiet morning breeze.

An officer tries to stop him from getting closer and then gets distracted by how terrible Ushijima must look. He pushes him away, snapping at them with his Alpha tone. Even humans get winded by the authority he is capable of emitting.

Oikawa is in the rubble. He is screaming. He is clawing. He is digging desperately around the ruined wood and splintered furniture. He isn’t crying. Not yet. His eyes are simply clouded in anger. Fury.

An officer tries to pull Oikawa away, and Oikawa actually snarls, eyes mere animal slits. He might even shift in that moment, in front of everyone, and Ushijima can’t let that happen. He reaches for the officer, “This is his home,” he supplies.

“We did everything we could,” the officer sighs sadly, relieved to be able to relay infrmation, “Somehow the alarms didn’t go off right. Thye might not have been up to code. When we came it was too late, but we were able to contain it.”

“Did you find anyone?” Ushijima presses, “His family, his family was home.”

“We searched through the night but we couldn’t find anything. No remains. Do you know how many people lived here?”

“No remains?” Ushijima repeats, “As in, they were burned to dust? Or they got away?”

“We don’t know yet sir,” the officer scratches the back of his neck, “But no souls been seen hanging around here. You’d think…You’d think they’d run to a neighbors or come meet us out here.”

Ushijima doesn’t want to hear it. Instead he leaves the officer. Oikawa has moved to another section of the rubble, flinging wood panels away and clawing at the dirt. His hands are black with soot. His arm is bleeding from getting caught on a sharp nail. He isn’t stopping. He’s still screaming.

“Kunimi! Yahaba! Hajime!” he takes in a wet desperate breath, “Hajime! Please! _Please!_ ”

“Oikawa,” Ushijima murmurs, “The place has been searched. They’re not here.”

Oikawa shakes his head, returning to his futile digging. He finds a piece of what must have been their couch, and against something that must have melted into it. He starts to scream again, “Matsun! Makki! KyouKen!”

Ushijima tries to take hold of his arm. Oikawa snarls at him as he pulls away, tripping over rubble as he skids away. He keeps shouting, “Kindaichi! Hajime! _Hajime!”_ his voice cracks on the last word.

And that is the moment the tears fall.

He falls to the ground. A heap of a man, broken heart and heavy bones. His shoulders shudder so hard Ushijima can feel the earthquake from beside him. “Oikawa,” he says, and he tries again to reach for the Alpha.

This time Oikawa doesn’t pull away. Doesn’t even register him as he falls limp in Ushijima’s arms.

“It’s not _true_ ,” Oikawa pleads.

“Oikawa,” Ushijima tries again.

Oikawa suddenly fists Ushijima’s shirt, “Kill me,” he begs. “Right now, sever my neck. Please. Or let me, let me do it myself. I can’t. This can’t. I can’t.”

“Oikawa!” Ushijima roars again, holding the man tighter for fear he may try to wrestle out and follow through with his promise, “I don’t, I don’t think they’re dead.”

“The _entire_ house is gone!” Oikawa screams.

“I do not smell death,” Ushijima insists, “I smell fear and fire and my pack-mates and yours. But I do not smell death.”

Oikawa swallows, “Then where _are_ they?”

Ushijima preses his lips into a thin line. He doesn’t know. Perhaps they took back to father. Perhaps they killed them elsewhere. Perhaps they did the former to some, and the latter to the others. He did not want to give Oikawa either answers.

Luckily he doesn’t have to, because it is at that moment a ghost flies by, right into Oikawa’s side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the wait. i rewrote this chapter like 3 times. still dont know how i feel about it. 
> 
> comments make me smile
> 
> until next time


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ushijima stares at the ground, “What else is there to do?”
> 
> Oikawa turns back to him, staring deeply into his eyes, as if to scrutinize him. Ushijima blinks, feeling a bit dazed by the look. Before he can ask, Oikawa stands up, setting Yahaba down on the couch cushion.
> 
> “I have an idea.”

Ushijima had forgotten how much simpler it was to live outside of human society. Humans required so much explanation, so much unnecessary coddling. It takes forever to extract themselves from the police, too assure them they will call them later. That they need space to cope with this destruction. Ushijima has to do all of the talking, which he isn’t very good at, because Oikawa has fallen completely silent.

A white wolf clings to his side, desperate and wobbly. Oikawa holds him tightly against himself, unable to loosen his grip even an inch, as if the wolf may slip right through his fingers if he were to do so. His eyes are glassy and look out to the distance, far far away.

Ushijima doesn’t recognize the wolfbut from the lack of any strong scent he assumes it must be a Beta. Regardless, Oikawa recognizes it and seems to be using the animal as his only tether left to the world. Best not to separate them.

“Oikawa,” Ushijima tries again to grab his attention from staring into the horizon line, “We must go somewhere so that the wolf can shift. He may know things.”

Oikawa doesn’t respond. Doesn’t look at him. The wolf trembles in his hold.

“Oikawa,” Ushijima repeats, placing a hand on Oikawa’s shoulder, “I do not know where to take us. This is your territory, not mine.” He hesitates, never one to concede ground to another Alpha, but decides to add, “ _Please_.”

Oikawa looks up at him, but his eyes are still blown wide, unable to focus. He’s still crying, the tears dripping down his face. His knuckles have gone as white as the fur he’s clinging to. Ushijima curses, running his hand through his own hair. He could take them to the woods and pray no one walks by, but it is bright out, and the sun has cleared the clouds. There are people milling. Ogling. They can’t have the wolf shift here.

He wishes the wolf would extricate himself and lead the way. He looks at it, “Take us somewhere,” he orders. The wolf refuses to move his face away from where it whimpers into the crook of Oikawa’s neck. Ushijima reaches for the wolf’s scruff to try to urge him forward, bite wounds be damned.

It’s not the wolf that snarls at him, it’s Oikawa, fierce and guttural from the back of his throat. Terrifying really. Not like an Alpha protecting its territory. It’s even fiercer. Almost like an Omega protecting their pup. Ushijima pulls away. Oikawa’s eyes focus on him for the first time in hours, “Don’t you fucking _touch_ him.”

Ushijima tries to settle his breathing. His heart has accelerated considerably, and there is a weakness in his knees he is unused to. He swallows thickly and insists, “We must get out of here, Oikawa. We must leave here for safety and regroup. There must be somewhere we can go.”

Oikawa buries his face back into the wolf’s fur, but Ushijima can see he’s mumbling something. Ushijima kneels down, trying to catch the words with his own ears.

“Our office,” Oikawa is saying with his eyes squeezed shut, “We can go to our office.”

He recites an address and Ushijima takes hold of his hand. Oikawa allows himself to be hauled up, but his free hand shoves into the wolf’s snow white fur to grab hold of its scruff. The wolf seems unbothered by this--in fact, it seems calmer.

The wolf is full grown, younger than the both of them certainly, but far from puphood, a time when being held by the scruff was a comfort and a necessity. Oikawa doesn’t let him go, and instead of scampering away to the front with its longer strides, the wolf walks tentatively slowly. Each paw moves forward only in tandem with Oikawa’s as if it would crumble completely alone.

Ushijima doesn’t understand.

Oikawa squeezes his hand, hard, ordering him to move forward. Together, the trio walk down the sidewalk and away. Further and further from the suburb and into the growing cacophony of the city.

It’s a long, arduous walk. Ushijima is limping. Oikawa’s legs shake with every step, so much so that the wolf at his side is the only thing keeping him upright. They don’t call a cab. No human would take the wolf into their vehicle. And so they walk, for a long time, ignoring the gazes of the people they pass by.

The wolf is well behaved. It keeps its white head down, hugging close to Oikawa’s side and never makes a sound. Sometimes Ushijima even forgets its there. The wolf smells of nothing and is silent as a ghost.

Finally they reach a small office front, the words _Seijoh Realty_ emblazoned above the door. Oikawa lets go of Ushijima’s hand—Ushijima had forgotten they were still clinging to each other, but now his hand feels cold without the other. He wants to take it back. It is almost unnerving the sudden need that takes hold of him. How much he wishes to snatch Oikawa’s hand for his own.

 _He’s an Alpha,_ Ushijma repeats in his mind. _A mated Alpha._

Oikawa unlocks the door and urges the wolf inside. He flicks the light on to reveal an open concept reception room, with two cubicles tucked away in the back. The blinds covering the windows shield them from sidewalk voyeurs. Oikawa collapses on the sofa. He lets his face rest against his hands and Ushijima fears the man may start sobbing again at any minute.

Ushijima sits beside him.

The wolf licks Oikawa’s knee and then, with another cursory look around the room, begins to shift. Ushijma watches as the wolf strains. It isn’t graceful. The beast is rusty, unused to shifting in and out of his forms. Eventually the teenager comes too, gangly and heaving and nude.

It’s the young Beta.

Yahaba.

Ushijima blinks.

Oikawa slips his jacket from his shoulders and wraps it around the shivering boy.

“Shigeru,” Oikawa murmurs, so softly that Ushijima barely catches the word, “What happened?”

Yahaba swallows thickly. His fingers dig into the jacket’s rough fabric. He draws his knees up to shield himself better. “They took us. They took everyone.”

“Who? Who took you?” Ushijima prompts.

Yahaba’s gaze flicks to him, as if finally registering his presence. The boy’s face twists, more animalistic than anything he’d seen on the scared wolf’s visage. His eyes blaze with hatred, “You. You did this! You and your, your pack of monsters!”

Ushijima’s eyes widen. Oikawa turns to look at him. And then he slides away from him, a gulf widening between them the size of oceans.

“Can you start from the beginning?” Oikawa asks Yahaba quietly.

Yahaba gives Ushijima a wary glance before nodding. He turns to lean his head against Oikawa’s knee and begins his tale. With every cruel detail, every pang of hurt, Ushijima’s face grows paler and paler. Oikawa hardens, the sorrow bleeding from his face to reveal sternness. He’s thinking, hard, absorbing everything his pack-mate has to tell him. Analyzing. Plotting. Searching for holes to claw through.

“It’s my fault,” Yahaba finishes, face falling forward to press against the sofa cushion. He’s still crumpled on the floor. He looks much younger like this. Barely past puphood, afraid and alone.

“It’s not your fault,” Oikawa says quickly.

Yahaba shakes his head, shoulders trembling, “I met, I met Tendou on the Run. I didn’t, I didn’t know he was a shifter. It’s my fault he found us. I’m so sorry. I’m so so so sorry.”

“I should have paid better attention,” Oikawa disregards the confession, tugging Yahaba up from the ground to bring him into his lap. Yahaba is limp and exhausted in his arms, and the boy immediately tucks his head into the crook of Oikawa’s neck. Desperate for his Alpha to protect him from the evils of the world. To make everything okay again.

Oikawa lets the boy do so, his own grip on Yahaba tight and desperate. He has one hand petting the Beta’s light brown hair. Oikawa’s sharp eyes then turn to pin Ushijima down. Ushijima raises his shoulders up to shield himself, and also to hide his own growing shame.

“I will fix this,” Ushijima says, “I will go and demand the release of your pack.”

“I thought you said if you returned, you’d be denounced a traitor,” Oikawa replies, unconvinced, “What leverage would that give you to get my family back?”

Ushijima bites his lip and thinks a moment before speaking, “Regardless, my presence and testimony will clear your pack’s name. Shiratorizawa has hit hard times, but I am sure my father will see reason. She is stern and strict, but she is honorable. She will let them go.”

“Why would they believe you?” Oikawa insists, “Either they think you’re a traitor for running from your duty, or they’ll think my pack captured and tortured you to tell these lies to free them. If you go back they will take you and kill my family. They only reason they are alive is to get information on _your_ whereabouts.”

Ushijima stares at the ground, “What else is there to do?”

Oikawa looks away. He leans back into the sofa, keeping up his rhythmic petting of Yahaba’s hair. Ushijima can’t decipher what he’s thinking. He’s already set his mind. He could not live with himself if his selfishness brought about the end of Oikawa’s pack, even if they were odd and unconventional. They did not deserve to be dragged into his mess. It wasn’t right. He would fix this. Somehow.

Oikawa turns back to him, staring deeply into his eyes, as if to scrutinize him. Ushijima blinks, feeling a bit dazed by the look. Before he can ask, Oikawa stands up, setting Yahaba down on the couch cushion.

“I have an idea.”

* * *

Kyoutani paces up and down the holding cell. They’re in a basement. Dug out straight from the earth, damp and cold and dirty. Thick metal bars keep them from escaping. There are no windows, and it is perpetually dark.

They are not alone.

There are four other Alphas crammed into the holding cell with them. They are all in shift, scrawny and angry. The first day Kyoutani and Iwaizumi had been thrown in they’d had to fight them off tooth and nail. There is no hierarchy here. There is just anger and fear and innate desire to be on top.

At least the muzzles had been removed. Metal collars still weigh heavily around their necks, but if anything it means the other wolves can’t reach their main arteries.

A tentative truce had allowed for Iwaizumi and Kyoutani to take the left corner of the holding cell to themselves. The reprieve grants them all a moment to lick their wounds and accustom themselves to the new scents of the cell.

Iwaizumi has shifted back into a human, unbothered by his nudity as he pulls at the bars by their corner. His nose is less powerful in his human form, and the stuffy Alpha stink is more bearable this way.

Kyoutani is _very_ bothered by his nudity, but mostly out of fear. The other Alphas haven’t seemed to realize yet that there is an Omega in their midst. But for how long?

Iwaizumi is shouting, yelling expletives and empty threats. He is calling for the pups. He wants to see the pups. He _needs_ to see the pups.

Kyoutani can not blame him. The last time he had seen the pups he had seen their terrified faces pulled from the burlap bag. They whimpered and keened and Kyoutani had tried to reach them only to be slammed back into the ground.

From there they’d all been separated. The pups one direction. The Betas forced another. And Kyoutani and Iwaizumi had been dragged by their chains down into this cellar, snarling and clawing the entire way down. So much for an audience with the Shiratorizawa pack Alpha.

“What a whiny Alpha,” one of their cell-mates snaps. He’s in shift so only Kyoutani can understand him, and he shoots him a glare. The other Alpha is unperturbed, “You’d expect this sad display from an Omega. Where did Shiratorizawa pick you sad lot from?”

Another Alpha lifts his head up, “Shiratorizawa ain’t in the business of keeping prisoners anymore. At least, not for long.”

Kyoutani snarls at them, but his heart beats faster at the mention of Omegas. How long until they figure it out? How long until it becomes clear that Iwaizumi is not where he is supposed to be? He keeps himself between the strangers and Iwaizumi, and he keeps his scent aggressive and all consuming.

“KyouKen, there’s enough Alpha scent here already,” Iwaizumi glowers, stepping away from the bars, “You’re going to give me a headache.”

Kyoutani shrinks back apologetic, but he doesn’t know what else to do. He doesn’t know how to protect Iwaizumi. He’s failed to protect anyone in his pack so far. Sure, that was Oikawa’s job, but Oikawa hadn’t been around, and he was the only Alpha around, so he should have protected them. He should have fought back harder. He should have stopped them all. He should have done so much more.

Iwaizumi rests his hand on Kyoutani’s head, as if sensing his growing anxiety, “It’s going to be okay, I promise. Yahaba will get Oikawa, and he’ll come get us. Don’t worry.”

Kyoutani lets out a yearning whimper without realizing. His tail falls between his legs when he hears the chorus of laughter from the other Alpha prisoners. Even just the thought of Yahaba out there in the dark fills him with a sadness he is uncomfortable experiencing. He had always wanted to see Yahaba’s wolf form—and he had been beautiful, white as snow, pristine and pure—but not like this. Never like this.

Kyoutani presses himself against Iwaizumi, because Iwaizumi is so warm, familiar and comforting, and he feels compelled to do so. Iwaizumi lets him, even though his eyes remain glued to the bars. He clearly wants to keep shouting, to keep trying to pry the bars apart, but instead he tugs Kyoutani closer to his chest to scratch at the back of his ears.

Kyoutani nuzzles closer and Iwaizumi smells so good this close, when he actually _can_ smell him. No scent can beat that of an Omega, especially when stuck in a hole full of angry Alphas. He never noticed how wonderful Iwaizumi could smell. It’s calming. Soft. Flowery. The kind of smell he just wants to sink into completely.

Before he can close his eyes, a Shiratorizawa figure finally appears at the bars, human and frowning, “Ushijima-san is ready to see you.”

“Am I to go naked?” Iwaizumi barks back defiantly.

The man snorts and doesn’t answer. Instea, he comes into the cage, to lock chain leashes into their collars. Kyoutani tries to bite his hand, but Iwaizumi prevents him from following through.

The pair are lead away. Kyoutani stays a wolf but Iwaizumi insists on being human, unbothered by the looks he receives from the pack members they walk past on the surface world. Finally, someone gives him a purple robe to cover himself.

They’re taken down a gravel path to the largest house they have seen so far. It’s traditional in i’s architecture, wood and stone mended together ornately. They enter and are forced to sit by a low standing table. Their leashes are tethered to the ground next to them where steel loops are drilled into the floor board. It restricts their movement and prevents them from standing up at all.

Iwaizumi glances over at Kyoutani and the wolf pushes into him, focusing his best on dousing the both of them in scent. Iwaizumi seems to shudder almost imperceptibly, skin flushing slightly around the collar he wears. But other than that he keeps his face blank.

An old Alpha woman steps in, taking a seat across from them. She waves at a young Omegan, clothed lightly with sheer white fabrics to come pour them tea. Iwaizumi doesn’t spare the boy a glance, Kyoutani has a hard time not looking.

“Iwaizumi Hajime,” the woman greets, “It is a pleasure to meet you.”

Iwaizumi doesn’t respond.

She smiles, taking a long sip of her black tea. “You know, I had not heard of your pack before. You don’t command a real territory do you? One home, embedded in the human stink. It’s very peculiar.”

Iwaizumi doesn’t respond. He just holds her gaze.

“But I could have sworn I heard your name before,” she continues, “And then I remembered years ago, the absolute fuss, that terrible southern commune kicked up about a runaway pair.”

Iwaizumi fists his hands where they rest atop his folded knees.

“An Alpha and an Omega. Eventually they gave up the search. Oh, don’t worry, I have no intention of giving them your whereabouts. I don’t associate with perverse heathens. I am sure you had your reasons for leaving and that they were just and understandable.” She lets out a long, almost pitying sigh, “I wish you and your mate had been able to find _us_ instead. Shiratorizawa would have taken you in and nurtured you well. Where is your Omega?”

Iwaizumi says nothing.

The Alpha sighs again, “You are not one for words are you, Iwaizumi? You remind me of my son in that way.”

Iwaizumi grits his teeth behind his lips.

“Why, Iwaizumi, did you take my son from me? Chain him to your basement? Some perverse need to fight back? We are not your enemy. Or at least, we weren’t. Your enemy lies further south in that dinky little commune.” Her eyes seem to harden, the put-on softness melting away. The carved stone of her face looks remarkably like Ushijima, “Where is my son?”

Iwaizumi asks in turn, “Where are my pups?”

“They are safe,” the Alpha replies, “Where is my son?”

“I do not know,” Iwaizumi says, “He left of his own volition. Now, take me to my pups.”

“My son’s blood was all over your house. All over you. Do not lie to me, Iwaizumi. Do not force my hand. I am sure you would understand, as a father yourself, that I will do anything to get my son back.”

“Your son is a grown man,” Iwaizumi continues undeterred, “Only a monster would hurt such young pups.”

She looks at him, squinting her eyes, “Your one Omega isn’t a pup anymore though, is he? He’s had his first heat.”

Iwaizumi snarls, ferocious and pulled from deep within him. The chain around his neck rattles.

The Alpha takes another long sip of her tea. Iwaizumi’s cup remains untouched and cooling. He has half the mind to smash it over the woman’s head. She speaks up again before he can lift his hand, “If you do not wish to comply, than I see no need in continuing this conversation. We do not need the added mouths to feed. Your Betas will work until they have exhausted their use. We will no longer waste our food stores on your pups. Your loyal dog here will be used as training fodder. And you will remain in our prison until you speak. I will not tolerate this nonsense. You have forced my hand.”

“Nothing I have said has been a lie!” Iwaizumi snaps. If Oikawa were here he would have kept his calm and turned the situation somehow. But he isn’t Oikawa, and the threat feels too real not to explode, “I have no idea where Ushijima has gone. He told us of the things you’ve instructed him to do, to Karasuno and the other small packs in your vicinity. We forced him to leave us. We would not shelter him a moment longer. I do not know where he is. Do you wish to add my family’s death to your long list of sins?”

The Alpha’s eyes flash, her long teeth baring. Iwaizumi refuses to back down, even as fear sloshes wetly inside his gut. If they kill the pups, if they starve them like they are threatening to, he will kill himself, no doubt. There is no fear for his own well being. He could care less. There is only fear for his children and his pack-mates. To fail them is to fail his entire world.

The Omega servant bursts in through the doors before Ushijima-san can even open his mouth to reply. He’s dazed and the Alpha shoots the boy a glare. But the Omega shakes his head quickly, “Ushijima Wakatoshi has returned! He’s at the southern border. He’s request entrance!”

Ushijima-san stands up. Iwaizumi blinks, chancing to share a surprised glance with Kyoutani beside him. They seem to have been forgotten, as the Shiratorizawa Alpha and Omega leave the room. With them gone and the tension in the air dissipating along with them, Iwaizumi leans forward to rest his head against the table.

He’s sweating. The pressure to keep calm and collected suffocating. The woman had stunk of fierce, strong Alpha, and combined with Kyoutani’s purposefully overwhelming scent, it was enough to make his stomach turn. He feels nauseas and hot. Head pounding.

Kyoutani barks.

Iwaizumi groans. The robe he’s in sticks to his skin uncomfortably. The metal collar chafes at the glands at his neck. He’s not sure how long he can keep up this charade. He wants to go home. He wants his pups. He wants Oikawa. Just the thought of his mate has a whine tugging at his throat.

Kyoutani lets out an even louder bark, strained and slightly panicked.

Iwaizumi opens his eyes again, flushing when he realizes he’d allowed the whine to leave him—a deep and needy sound. He lifts himself back up which feels a lot harder than it should be. He looks down to see the table is littered with droplets of his sweat. He frowns.

His stomach twists again.

Realization hits him like a rock to to the head, pummeling him back to his senses.

 _“Fuck_ ,” he hisses, trying to stand up, only to be kept down by the heavy chain secured to the floor. “Fuck, fuck, _fuck.”_

Kyoutani lets out a worried keen, pawing at the ground as if he’s doing his best to occupy himself and his growing anxiety. He must know. He must smell it. What if the others could tell? Shit, _shit,_ Iwaizumi thinks. Why now? Of all times? He shouldn’t be due for another few weeks. Although, he had always been irregular.

He whirls his head back when he hears voices. Kyoutani lets out another worried keen, trying to move in front of Iwaizumi as if to shield him from the door and whatever might come through its door. Unfortunately, his chain is too short to give him that range of motion. He settles to baring his teeth, fur puffed out and snarling more viciously than Iwaizumi’s ever seen him do.

It’s not the Alpha.

Or at least, not the Alpha they had been speaking to. No, it’s the redheaded Alpha who had started this nightmare. The man smiles brightly at the aggressive display. If he catches Iwaizumi’s pheromones he doesn’t react. Iwaizumi prays that his scent is still weak enough to be hidden by Kyoutani. He hopes his face isn’t as red as he thinks he is.

“Change of plans,” Tendou sings, twirling a key around his fingers, “Wakatoshi-kun’s on his way home! Isn’t that grand?”

“So we can go?” Iwaizumi asks, and he hopes his voice doesn’t shake.

Tendou taps his chin like he’s thinking about it. But then he bends forward in half, so his face is level with Iwaizumi’s, close enough for their noses to bump, “Nope!” Tendou says, “Something still smells fishy to me. We’ll have to wait and see what Wakatoshi-kun wants to do with you.”

Iwaizumi pulls back. Tendou looks like he’s about to laugh. But then he stops, nose twitching. He leans closer and Iwaizumi doesn’t know what to do.

Luckily, Kyoutani does. The Alpha lunges, his chain pulling with a loud clank as he manages to startle Tendou away. The wolf growls angrily and the redhead lets out a huff. Tendou wipes at the spittle that had sprayed on his cheek.

“Your lapdog is no fun,” he pouts before turning to the Alpha beside him, “Put them back in the pit.”

* * *

Ushijima tries to keep his face from flushing hot and red. He keeps his gaze focused on the trees behind him rather than the scene unfolding in front of him. This is insane. Mortifyingly insane.

Yahaba fusses with the long white dress. Ushijima would have thought he would have argued more at seeing his Alpha _debase_ himself like this, but the teenager had hopped on board immediately. There was something desperate in the two of them, a need to secure the safety of their family, that allowed them to jump these societal hoops without a second thought. Or perhaps Yahaba had been raised in debauchery from the very beginning.

Oikawa shoos Yahaba’s fingers away, fixing the knot himself. He turns, the white fabric flowing smoothly with him. There was a long slit along the right side of the dress, allowing the tantalizing view of his slim pale leg. Just above his waist lay the flat wide ribbon that kept the robe on his body. It tied ornamentally in the back in a beautiful big bow. Oikawa tilts his head back over his shoulder, “Does it look alright?”

Ushijima’s mouth is dry. He can not decipher if the knot is centered correctly. All he can think is how, with just one tug it, he could undo the knot and Oikawa would be completely bare before him. That one image clogs up his mind and he tries to remind himself that this is all a ruse. _Oikawa is an Alpha_.

“Well?” Oikawa presses, completing his twirl to face Ushijima fully, “Do I look like a bride or what?”

“Yes,” Ushijima says, the words leaping from his throat and propelling him closer, “You are, you are very convincing.”

“Great,” Oikawa says, sucking inmore of his gut, “Normally I’d claw you for that, but for once, it seems, my condition is coming in handy. Yahaba, are you sure you don’t want to be my aid?”

Yahaba shakes his head, “They’ll recognize me. Tendou’s spoken to me. We can’t risk it, Oikawa-san.”

Oikawa sighs, “You’re right, of course. I raised you to always be right.” He pats the Beta’s head, “Stay close, alright? We might need your sneaking skills.”

“I don’t know much use I can b—” Yahaba stops at the sharp looking Oikawa gives him and decides instead to nod. Oikawa leans down to scent mark him and as he does so, realizes he doesn’t want to let Yahaba go. What if this is the last time he ever sees him?

No.

He can’t think like that.

He pulls away with a wide, face splitting smile. Yahaba isn’t fooled, but he doesn’t say anything either.

The dress they had thrifted was a lucky find. The ribbon was actually a satin sash they’d ripped from another outfit. Regardless, it worked, and Oikawa had transformed into the picture of Omegan purity, befitting the wife of an Alphan of Ushijima’s standing.

“Well?” Oikawa says. Yahaba had slipped away, quiet and scentless. Now it was just Oikawa and Ushijima, alone in the wilderness.

“Right,” Ushijima swallows, looking back out toward the tree-line. “Follow me. Stay close, but never overtake me.”

“Yes, yes,” Oikawa grouses, “How far to your border?”

“Not far at all,” Ushijima responds. It’s easier to speak when he’s not looking at Oikawa. It’s easier when all he can hear is his petulant voice and can imagine him in a much rattier outfit.

He pauses, now that he can focus better.

“Actually,” he murmurs, sniffing at the air. He opens his mouth to taste it. He lets a hand out to grab Oikawa’s arm, ignoring the man’s immediate instinct to pull away from him, “They’ve moved it.”

“Moved it?” Oikawa repeats, forcing himself to stand still.

“We must have expanded more,” Ushijima murmurs. He thinks a moment. “I’m going to howl for an escort.”

“What?” Oikawa blanches. He tries to twist free again, and this time Ushijima lets him go.

“If we are to sell this story you have crafted it makes no sense for me to be sneaking into my own territory. I am returning home with an Omega to wed, and then to clear up a misunderstanding. This border change is recent, there will be more shifters patrolling. If I howl they will come, and they will escort us directly to my father.”

Oikawa opens his mouth but can’t dredge up anything to counter the argument with. He hates to admit that he’s out of his element here. This is Ushijima’s turf. Begrudgingly he’s left just to ask, “What should I do?”

“Just don’t speak,” Ushijima says, and he knows he’s asking a lot.

With that, he tips his head back and lets out deep, bellowing, howl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is oikawa a genius or an idiot? only time will tell
> 
> thanks for reading!!!
> 
> comments make me smile


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